AkaNami formerly Untitled Danny Phantom Fanfic
by Sakura Scout
Summary: Sam is attacked by a ghost and Danny wants to know why. Is the ghost after him, Sam, both of them, or neither? With what he and Tucker discover, can they figure it out before it's too late? Slight AU for after MBK
1. Ichi

_**PLEASE READ THIS NOTE FIRST!! THIS MEANS VETERAN READERS, TOO!!**_

THIS STORY ONLY FOLLOWS THE DP SERIES UP TO "My Brother's Keeper" BECAUSE THAT'S WHEN I STARTED WRITING THIS PIECE. So it's AU after MBK, but that doesn't mean I don't incorporate later episodes. No Valerie here and no elemental powers for Danny. Sorry. Oh!

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.

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_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER ONE: ICHI**_

**00000**

It was the dead of night and shockingly, there was not a single star shining along side the moon or a light zephyr sifting through the chilling night air. Everything was silent and still; even the crickets kept to themselves. The streetlights, which were supposed to remain lit until 6 AM, had left the lone moon to illuminate the dreary night. Indeed, this was the most lifeless night she would ever experience as she hurriedly stumbled over the deserted sidewalk.

"Danny ..." She forced herself to run despite her weakened state. Involuntarily, the young girl winced and clutched her abdomen with both her arms. In her haste, she didn't even bother looking down to see the trail of bright red she was unintentionally leaving behind her.

"Danny ..." Her grip tightened on her mid-section, unknowingly causing crimson to seep between her fingers and spill over her arms. There was urgency in each step she took, but she knew that her strength was leaving her. With a shallow intake of air, she desperately tried to quicken her already slowing pace, causing her vision to blur.

"Danny ..." For a brief moment, her eyes widened as her whole body became numb, stopping her dead in her tracks. Something tangy, sticky, and thick dribbled out of the corner of her mouth. She looked up at the full moon, the warm liquid now flowing down her chin and onto her neck.

"Danny ..."

**000**

Danny Phantom quickly dodged the charging mass of green. The sickening colored blob took the form of a decaying griffin and chanced another attack with a swiping claw. With little effort, the young ghost hunter phased through the attacking limb and body-slammed the griffin into a nearby wall of the fully packed warehouse, pinning the beast.

"Tucker! The thermos!" On cue, the meat-lover appeared from his hiding place behind a crate, Fenton Thermos in hand.

"Tuckerino to the rescue!" With that, Tucker opened the Fenton Thermos, aiming at the oppressing ghost.

Danny quickly jumped out of the way as the blue vortex came crashing down on the lion-eagle hybrid. However, the snarling grin on the beast's face wasn't something Danny was expecting as the griffin locked eyes with him.

"I have served my purpose." Before Danny could question the griffin on what he had meant, the feathered/furred fiend had been contained.

"What was that about?"

Danny looked at Tucker and shrugged, his fifteen-year-old form encircled by two rings of light as he returned to normal. "No clue. We should get going, though. I don't want to be caught sneaking around at night." His response was a simple nod as the duo headed towards the exit.

_Danny ..._ The halfa turned his head towards Tucker. "What was that, Tuck?"

Tucker raised an eyebrow at his now human friend. "I didn't say anything."

Danny scratched his head. "I guess it was just--" A whispering voice echoed through the blue-eyed teen's head.

_Danny ..._

"Hey, man, are you okay?"

He looked at Tucker. "Sorry. It's nothing, but I swear I heard someone call my name."

Tucker looked around the area. "There's no one here but you and me. Maybe you've just been working too hard."

Danny shrugged. "Maybe ..."

_Danny ..._ He groaned, half in defeat and half in frustration.

"Are you _sure_ you didn't hear that?"

Shaking his head from side to side, Tucker gave Danny a confused look. "I'm _positive_ Danny, you must be under some _serious_ stress if you're starting to hear voices. Now c'mon. It's 2 AM; we gotta hurry if we don't wanna be grounded."

Danny nodded while thinking for a moment, a feeling of apprehension filling his being. "You know ... The voiced kinda sounded like--"

_Danny ..._ The image of a fifteen-year-old female ultra-recyclo vegetarian goth flashed through his mind.

"Sam."

Tucker was about to ask Danny 'What about Sam?' but the not-so-normal youth had gone ghost and taken to the dark skies.

**000**

His pulse was erratic and his breaths came in short gasps ((1)), his ears deaf to all sound except the whistling of the wind. Small shivers of the bad sort ran down his spine and his hands trembled with something fierce. Something was wrong. Something was _terribly_wrong. Worst of all, whatever had occurred had happened to Sam. With that mere thought, he urged every fiber in his fifteen-year-old body to hurry. How he knew where to go, he wasn't sure; all he knew was that Sam would be there.

And he was right.

She stood there on the sidewalk, staring into the night sky with glassy amethyst eyes. He began to let out a sigh of relief but the feeling was quickly replaced as if someone (or something, in some cases) had knocked the air out of him. A dribble of blood marked a trail from the corner of her mouth to the collar of her black tank-top, undeniably noticeable against her pale skin. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her mid-section, where her top was soaked through and tainted with a vivid crimson. Red covered her arms and left trails down her purple leggings, only to pool around her feet. On the track of sidewalk behind her, he saw a path of shimmering red that seemed to go on forever.

How far had she walked like this?

Without knowing it, he had reached her side and was staring her in the eyes with genuine concern, noticing that she wasn't looking at him. It took only the mere weight of his hand on her shoulder to break her from her daze and look him in the eye. Immediately, she collapsed and he caught her in his arms, gently laying her down on dry sidewalk. A raspy gasp escaped her throat before she started coughing uncontrollably, blood spraying from her mouth and onto his black jumpsuit. It was painfully obvious that she lacked the strength to lift her own arm.

His own blood ran cold, more so than it already was.

With a few deep breaths, he carefully removed her arms away from her abdomen and applied pressure to the injury that was unmistakably there. The garnet liquid stained his gloves, but he barely noticed it as he concentrated on stopping the bleeding.

"Danny ...?"

Looking away from his now blood-soaked gloves, Danny locked eyes with his female best friend, a grim expression on his face. Her skin was paler than usual and gave off a faint eerie, ethereal glow from the bright moon. The rise and fall of her chest was slow and shallow, the deep rasp hinting damage to the lungs.

He was enraged and needed to know the source of this crime so he could outlet his anger. "Sam ... Who did this? _What_ did this?"

Sam's heavily-lidded eyes wavered as she struggled to breath, which only made her tremble and wither in pain. Danny's eyes hardened at this and his breath only caught in his throat when he felt how cold she was as he instinctively drew closer to her.

"... Ghost ..." The pressure on Sam's wound was increased and she audibly whimpered at the gesture, making Danny flinch and quickly reply with an apology. The anger that had overwhelmed his being just seconds before vanished at the sight of Sam's agonized look. She shook her head and opened her mouth to talk again, urgency in her eyes.

"... Said ... that ...--" A fit of bloodied coughs racked her small frame and it took everything in Danny to focus on stopping her bleeding and not on how venerable she looked, which made his gut churn. With a firm pat and a gentle rub on her back, he gave her a curt nod to continue when the coughing ceased.

"... That ... 'life is ... fleeting ... you must ... live it ... without ... regrets ...--'" Wincing, Sam shut her eyes tight in pain and took a few more shallow breaths before her body went limp.

His heart stopped.

"Sam?" He pulled his now damp, red gloves from her damaged abdomen, paying no heed to the fact that the bleeding had stopped. One shaky gloved hand came to rest upon Sam's neck just above her black choker, feeling for her jugular and smearing more blood upon her deathly pale skin in the process. The faint pulse under his touch caused his own heart to beat again. Removing a glove (only to find that the blood had seeped through the material), Danny smoothed Sam's damp and matted hair, breathing a sigh of relief.

He gathered Sam into his arms, being as gentle as he could, before flying towards the hospital at the highest speed he was able to go without harming her. It had only taken a few minutes for him to reach the emergency unit, but in that time it had felt as if it had taken an eternity to reach. This had only made him feel as if he wouldn't make it in time to get Sam the treatment she required.

Mutely, Danny (who was now human and covered in Sam's blood) watched as nurses took Sam away from his numb and shaking arms. He kept his eyes on her frail form as they rushed her into the emergency room, the doors swinging shut behind the fast speeding gertie. The moment Sam was out of sight, Danny's knees buckled from under him. It took a few moments for the nurses to come back and rush over to him, preparing to check his person (seeing as he was covered with blood, which they didn't know was not his own). They barely got three feet within distance before he shot up from his broken position on the titled floor while drawing blood from his own tightly clenched fists. He stood there with eyes glaring off straight ahead into the distance, stormy blue orbs ((2)) hidden under heavily tousled jet-black hair. Combined with his rigid demeanor, Danny looked downright frightening.

If one were to look into his eyes at that moment, they would see dark blue fire, raging with a malice that even Danny himself didn't know he possessed (but didn't seem to care). In fact, an aura of pure hatred surrounded him in a way that made the whole hospital deathly quiet and still in his wake, only adding to the already supernatural chill of the building. As the nurses witnessed this, they cowered back in fear, too afraid to ask the young man the simple question of what his wounded friend's name was.

And in the silence his loathing had created, Danny swore under his breath an oath of vengeance upon the specter that had attacked Samantha Manson. Unknown to him, a young teen fighting for her life in the emergency room heard every single word as if they were being whispered right into her ear.

_Whoever or whatever did this is going to pay three times over ..._

_And if she doesn't make it through ..._

_There won't be anything left of them to take back to the Ghost Zone ..._

((1)) I know that Danny doesn't breath or have a heartbeat when he's in ghost mode (at least I don't think so), but I wrote this on a whim, so please bare with me.

((2)) I also know that Danny's eyes glow green when he's really pissed, but I'd really prefer to see his baby blues have their own kind of emotional glow when he's in human form.

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_**REVIEW!! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!! DON'T DENY IT!! PLEAS LEAVE SOME CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, COMMENTS, QUESTIONS, AND/OR CONCERNS!! THANK YOU!!**_

Sakura Scout


	2. Ni

I'm back! Wow. I didn't know people would be so ... _intrigued_ by my story. Well, I still don't know where this story is heading, but from reading the first chapter, you guys can pretty much get an idea. Hopefully.

Sorry for all the blood in the last chapter, but at least I didn't describe how Sam's wound looked like. That is ... unless you want me to go back and do so ...

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, Dr. Roberts, and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.

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_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER TWO: NI**_

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He had come rushing into the hospital at 2:37 AM.

He stood seething for a good quarter of an hour before one courageous nurse approached him.

His and Sam's parents had been phoned at 2:58 AM.

Panicked and/or sobbing, said parents had arrived at 3:21AM.

They had begun questioning him in vain almost at the exact the moment they walked into the waiting room. The interrogation had lasted for about 7 minutes until both sets of parents realized he wasn't in any shape to be answering them.

All the paperwork for Sam was finished at 3:34 AM.

And it was 3:35 AM when a Hispanic female doctor came walking out of the emergency room.

It was hard to tell what age she was with her hairnet and hospital scrubs, but she obviously had been around long enough not to be phased by the chaos ensuing around the emergency waiting room. Neither Danny nor the adults seemed to take notice of her until she had called out to the Mansons. Within the blink of an eye, the Mansons were hounding the poor medical master.

Dr. Roberts took a deep breath and began her speech of Sam's condition at 3:44 AM, directed at the Mansons for the most part.

"I'm guessing from the questions, none of you adults have a clue of what happened. And since the young boy here is still in shock, we can't ask him of what went on. So I'll tell you of what my colleagues and I have obtained from her injuries.

"There is a deep gash in Samantha's abdomen, cutting through some muscle tissue. The cut itself isn't too deep, but slightly serious because of blood flow. It seems that she was struck a second time in the same area, though cutting up and under the rib cage on her left. This cut is more urgent since this blow punctured her left lung. Luckily, the tissue hasn't healed together yet, so we've managed to save the lung and are just finishing draining the fluid from it. Within time, the lung will operate normally. ((1))

"The good news is that no other vital organs were damaged. However, there is a rusted and jagged piece of metal resting dangerously close to a central artery. We can't leave this shard inside of her for obvious reasons and are currently trying to remove it before it infects the surrounding tissue." She cleared her throat and gazed into each pair of eyes that were filled with concern for Miss Manson at 3:49 AM.

"For the time being, you can ... stay here if you like until further news on her condition." Dr. Roberts' eyes came to rest on Danny's disheveled demeanor before coming back to the Fentons (minus Jazz), who kept their eyes on Danny.

"Your son seems physically fine; he's just in shock. It would be best if you took him home--"

"I'm not leaving." All eyes turned to Danny. He was sitting with his back hunched over, elbows resting on his knees and his hands interlaced in front of him. His head was hung low and he was staring accusingly at the white tile floor beneath him.

Maddie walked over to him, taking an empty seat beside him. "C'mon, sweetheart. There isn't anything we can do for her. Let's just let the doctors do their work and go home--"

His head shot up and he glared daggers at his mother, overwhelmed by anger he was not known of harboring. "I'm not leaving her!"

Sighing with a sort of sympathy, Maddie looked up at Jack for confirmation. The middle-aged ghost hunter averted his gave from his wife with a shrug, not knowing what else do. Maddie looked over at Dr. Roberts.

"We'll be staying just for a bit longer ... At least until we know Sam's pulled through."

Dr. Roberts nodded firmly before making eye contact with the Mansons again. "I'll permit their stay if you're alright with this." Mr. Manson, who looked more like your typical overly stressed father instead of the bright and cheery man that he was, gave a curt nod. Mrs. Manson stifled a sob and looked at Danny and his parents with gratitude through blood-shot eyes. With one last glimpse over the quintet, Dr. Roberts returned to the emergency room.

It was 4:10 AM when all affected parties in the waiting room heard the echo of footsteps grow faint.

**000**

The clock read 5:42 and from what Danny could tell, it was still early morn. He had been immobile ever since he laid eyes on the face of the clock, watching the second hand tick away in circles.

Before the clock had taken his full attention, he had surveyed the waiting room. As to be expected for being located right beside the emergency room, the area was somewhat crowded and full of tension. Nurses were bustling around pushing gerties and wheelchairs. There were pregnant women going into labor, elderly folk that broke some brittle body part, OD victims being dragged in by people that cared, and whoever needed immediate medical attention.

Maddie was comforting a sniffling Mrs. Manson two chairs away from him on his left. Mr. Manson and Jack (who was uncharacteristically not talking about ghosts) were pacing the floor in front of him. Were it not the wee hours of the day, he was certain that the area would've been fully packed with people.

A wisp of blue smoke would rise from Danny's slightly parted lips every now and then, but he forced himself not to think about it. There were no dangerous ghosts in a hospital and Sam wasn't dead, he wouldn't believe any theory countering those thoughts. However, the latter of the two beliefs was hard to accomplish as images of Sam's bloodied prone figure flashed in his mind's eye, making him squirm with each exhale of his ghostly breath. He didn't give his mind time to wander when the forty-eighth curl of blue smoke passed between his lips. Danny had then shut his mouth tight with his jaw set and glued his eyes to the face clock that he was now watching.

It was the sound of squeaky wheels from the emergency room's entrance hall that made a number of people (including Danny, his parents, and the Mansons) stop what he or she was doing and place their sights onto the double doors leading up to the emergency room. And every last one of those individuals hoped it wasn't an empty gertie, accompanied by a distraught doctor.

Dr. Roberts came out with a nurse, who was wheeling out an unconscious hospital-gown-clad Sam on a gertie. Danny was along side the gertie, the Mansons right beside him within seconds. Dr. Roberts pulled the trio away from Sam, allowing enough time for the nurse to get the recovering teen into the intensive care ward.

"Now listen: We were successful in removing the piece of metal out of Samantha without damaging anymore tissue or blood vessels. She will need to stay in the hospital for at least two weeks, three at most, to be discharged.

"Her left lung is still weak, so she will be hooked up to a respirator for a while. The gash will take much time to heal. If she doesn't want to reopen the wound, she will need to rest well and not push herself.

"Since Samantha has just been taken out of surgery, we cannot allow anyone to see her at the moment. The earliest anyone can visit her is later today in the afternoon during visiting hours." At 5:57 AM, sighs of relief were expelled from five sleep-deprived people. Jack patted Maddie on the shoulder, nodding towards the exit.

"There's nothing left to do now except go home." Maddie arose from her seat and said her good-byes to the Mansons. She then gingerly took Danny's hand, following Jack to the hospital exit.

The weight of Jack's words finally hit Danny as they were leaving. He was leaving Sam. She would be in the hospital alone with nothing but the presence of death around her. And just to prove this point, Danny exhaled a cold breath, colored in the faintest of blues.

Something in him snapped and he quickly tore himself loose from Maddie's gentle hold. He vaguely heard the distant call of his name as he rushed toward the intensive care ward. Two male nurses came forward, intending to stop Danny from getting any further. The young hybrid quickened his pace and let himself drop to the waxed floor. White tiles slid beneath him as friction gave way and allowed him to pass between the two nurses. In an instant, he was up and making a mad dash to the end of the room.

Bursting through the swinging double doors and into the intensive care ward, he rounded the first right turn before taking a sharp left, almost crashing into a cart full of food. With a final sprint, Danny threw himself into the last room at the far end of the hall on his left; it seemed to call out to him in an unspoken language, the same as when he took off to find Sam earlier that night. Sam was in that room; that's all he knew.

She lay there with a number of tubes running in and out of her frame. A needle was placed in her right arm, connecting to an IV of blood and another full of a clear liquid. There was a clear plastic mask covering her nose and mouth ((2)). A large tube connected the piece to a machine that gave off a strange air sucking sound. From that, he could only guess it was a respirator. Then he noticed the occasional beep and saw a monitor keeping track of her heartbeat, which was connect to her right index finger with a small device. His gaze drifted over the rest of the machines in the room, and he briefly wondered what they were there for.

Danny took a hesitant step forward and then another, followed with several more until he was right at Sam's bedside. His hand trembled slightly when it grasped around hers, then stilled as he watched the rise and fall of her chest. The simple gesture seemed struggled, despite the respirator.

She looked out of character on the hospital bed; Samantha Manson was strong and steadfast. This couldn't be the same girl who looked like the faintest wind could break her. She didn't even look like a fifteen-year-old young woman, but like some lost little girl who had been left in the mercy of soulless machines.

He didn't even notice that anyone had entered the room from behind him until he felt the gentle touch of his mother's hand.

"Danny ..." He swallowed a lump that had somehow gotten caught in his throat as well as the cold feeling that had been building in his chest.

"She looks so small ..." Surprisingly, his voice hadn't cracked when he spoke.

"Son ..." He ignored the calling of his father's voice and continued to look at Sam.

"So vulnerable ..." This time, his voice came out in a hushed tone, as if he was afraid he would waken her. A gentle squeeze came from Maddie as she pulled Danny into a hug around the shoulders from behind.

"All we can do is let her rest. We'll come back tomorrow during visiting hours. Alright?" Danny's brow creased in concentration, scrutinizing what was being said.

"But she'll be alone." He felt a large hand come to rest on his shoulder.

"It's just for a couple of hours. Besides, the nurses will be here to watch over her." What they were saying was right, she would be okay, but he still felt as if he should be staying with her. It was like he knew Sam was scared. Heck! If he had gone through whatever she did, he'd be just as terrified.

But what ability did he posses could possibly allay that fear?

After a moment of verbal silence, Danny reluctantly let go of Sam's chillingly cold hand and let his parents lead him out of the room. There was a guilty feeling sifting through his every vein, but he knew that there was nothing he could do for Sam in her current condition.

He kept his eyes in the direction of Sam's hospital room as they walked back to the waiting area. Once they went through the double doors, Danny's eyes were downcast and he didn't dare look up at the Mansons as they passed the couple. Throughout the ride home, he stared at his shoes, his mind numb and filled with images of Sam covered in her own blood on the side walk and then laying on her bed alone in that dreary hospital room. Even when Jazz had come up to him and gave him a fierce hug (despite the sight of blood on his clothes), Danny didn't look up, barely noticing her kind gesture nor returning it.

**000**

Danny numbly peeled off his blood-dried clothes, tossing them onto the bathroom floor before stepping into the shower. After the one-sided hug, Jazz had told him to go take a hot shower to calm his nerves. He had nodded and without knowing what else to do, was now following through with the command.

As the water cascaded down onto his being, Danny kept his head down, looking at his open, upward facing palms. There were four small crescent shaped cuts on each hand from his seething earlier that night, or morning if you must. A sharp throbbing resonated from his palms when the water rushed over the broken skin, but he was too numb inside to wince. The blood on his hands was slowly being washed away.

His and Sam's blood.

His brows knitted together. Sam's blood shouldn't have been there. He should be covered in his own blood, not Sam's. He should be the one in that hospital bed with a healing lung and abdomen. After all, he was _the_ Danny Phantom, the one every ghostly villain was after.

His hands began to tremble.

What had Sam done? Was this some twisted method of payback? Had some ghost come looking for him to find vengeance, but instead found Sam? Or was Sam simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and some bitter ghost had taken advantage of the situation?

The wall shook slightly when his right fist collided with the tiled surface of the shower wall.

No. That couldn't have happened. Sam had said so herself that the ghost that had attacked her left a message. 'Life is fleeting; you must live it without regrets.'

Talk about an obvious life lesson.

But who was to say that the message was even for him? Then why was she so urgent in telling him what the ghost said? Was there something else that Sam didn't have time to tell him? She _did _stop somewhat abruptly. Had the ghost been trying to get Sam alone or had tried to hit a nerve in him? If so, they had done a wonderful job.

He felt a small tremor go through his left arm as his left fist came smashing into the same wall his right had come into contact with just a moment before.

Breathing heavily, Danny kept his gaze on the floor of the shower. The water was still a water-downed red. With a shaky breath, he grabbed the bar of soap and began to scrub away the remaining blood off his body. The water went from red to an angry crimson, then to a bubbly pink before becoming white foam.

Closing his eyes, he worked the shampoo into his hair and rinsed. In all honesty, he didn't feel like washing his messed up mop, but routine was routine. However, he usually shampooed before grabbing the soap. Perhaps he was sick of the blood that seemed to cling to him like some ink stain on your favorite shirt.

He tilted his head upwards and let the showerhead pelt water at his face.

For a brief moment, he let his mind go blank. He just concentrated on the feeling of steaming water rushing over him and the sound of the running water. His eyes snapped open and he blinked a few times against the water before shutting off the shower itself. After toweling off, he noticed a set of clean clothes on the bathroom sink area and managed a small smile.

"Jazz ..." Shaking his head in light amusement, Danny changed into his pink flannel pajamas ((3)). He didn't remember leaving the bathroom or entering his dark room, but he remembered the sensation of walking.

Without even bothering to turn on the lights, he staggered to his bed and fell face first into the familiar and inviting sheets. Shockingly, sleep found Danny all too soon, but his dreams were only to be haunted by Sam's blood and her unknown ghostly attacker.

7:18 AM

((1)) I asked by physiological teacher about collapsed lungs, so the information I have should be pretty accurate now.

((2)) I know that a real respirator is either covering the whole head of the person or has a tube shoved down the person's throat to the lungs. But for the purpose of this fic, let's just say it works with a mask.

((3)) The same pink pjs he wore in 'Bitter Reunions.'

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I know what you guys are thinking: "Nothing happened in this chapter!" Well ... Besides knowing that Sam isn't going to die, at least not anytime soon. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have no clue where this story is going. Then why am I continuing? Because I have a gut feeling. Yup. A **gut** feeling. That and I asked you guys in the first chapter whether or not I should go on.

NOW TO THANK ALL OF YOU WHO REVIEWED! cheers Thank you **lightning streak**, **Danni-2005**, **Wiggle Lizard**, **write!... now!**, **Ryo's destiny**, **cheerin4danny**, **NaruNaruChi-San**, **MORE!**, **spiritgirl09**, **B**, **Cathy**! Without you guys, this story wouldn't be continuing:throws confetti:

Oh! And **Ryo's destiny**? All you're questions will be answered within time. In fact, why Tucker was ghost hunting with Danny so late at night will be explained in the next chapter.

**_PLEASE REVIEW! I NEED FEEDBACK OR I LOOSE MY MOTIVATION TO WRITE! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS, &/OR RANTS APPRECIATED!_**

Sakura Scout


	3. San

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, the 'movie' "Keeper of Souls", Yamashiro Kakinouchi, and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.

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_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER THREE: SAN**_

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_Danny stood in the midst of darkness and watched helplessly as a dark, green glowing being advanced upon a broken and bloodied Sam. She lay there on her back in a pool of her own blood, tears of pain and anguish running down her soiled face. The dark figure raised its arm above its head and Danny screamed at himself to move. However, some invisible force kept him in place, immobile. He yelled and cursed, only to find that his voice died the moment the words reached his lips. His eyes burned and he was angry with himself for suddenly loosing his ability to cry for and with his pained friend._

_By now, Danny had watched the brutal beating the unknown specter had given Sam. With each strike that had been served, he had tried with all his might to break free of his unseen confinements, failing miserably at becoming intangible. And even now, he found that all he could do was watch as the deathblow was delivered to the defenseless Sam in a spray of blood._

He shot up, tossing the tousled bed sheets off his trembling upper-body. Every memory he had of the world of nightmares slipped from his grasp with the abrupt jolt back into reality. His eyes were wide open before he shut them tightly, holding up one hand against the brightness of the sun.

Sun?

He chanced at opening his blood-shot blue eyes again, wincing slightly as his vision adjusted to the intensity of the light. Sure enough, it was mid-afternoon as his alarm clock blared out with the electric green numbers of 4:06 PM. Groaning, Danny fell backwards, pulling his arm over his closing eyes in the process.

In his groggy daze, he became aware to the fact that his skin was coated with a thin sheet of cold sweat. He felt stiff and his body was tired because of tossing and turning during his slumber. And why in the world was his bed so rigid and lacking in its regular softness?

He was on the rough carpet floor.

Opening his eyes once more, Danny lifted himself off the ground. Or at least he tried to; his bed sheets were still tangled around his legs. Sighing in frustration, he pulled himself free from his confinements and tossed the fabric onto his bare mattress. While doing so, he tried to recall what had happened the night before that might have caused him to wake-up so late and make him toss in his sleep so much.

He remembered going to the movies with Tucker and Sam in celebration for completing their freshmen year at Casper High. Fortunately for Danny, his parents had lengthened his curfew to 11 PM so he could watch the first screening of their 2-and-a-half-hour movie at 8:15 PM. They had gone to watch a newly released film titled 'Keeper of Souls', a fantasy/horror movie about shamans and the afterlife. Unfortunately, just as Sam went off to get popcorn and drinks, Danny's Ghost Sense went off.

Danny had started to go ghost in a secluded corner and start off to fight the specter on his own, but Tucker had volunteered to tag along. The young African-American had said that it wouldn't take that long to nab the opposing spirit and that he didn't want to watch boring advertisements until the movie started. Seeing no harm with Tucker assisting him, Danny flew both of them out of there.

Tucker had been wrong.

What had seemed like a simple capturing ended up as a 6-hour ghost-hunting extravaganza. First it was the Box Ghost, who was promptly beaten in less than 15 seconds flat. Then Desiree had appeared, granting wishes and all. Not only did he have to waste his time wishing her into the thermos, but he and Tucker had to go around town finding all the people Desiree had granted wishes to (and there were a lot more than last time)((1)). That ordeal took up a good four hours. Skulker had been next, but Tucker sent him crashing and into the thermos all under ten minutes.

Seeing as they had missed their movie and it was way past their curfew, the two began to rush to their own respected homes when the ghost of a griffin came crashing down in front of Tucker. The beast had grabbed the shaken African-American and flew off. Danny chased the winged creature all over town for about an hour and a half before finally hitting the creature in its right wing with a well-aimed spectral beam. Crying out in pain, the griffin released its hold on Tucker and fell into a warehouse. Danny caught Tucker and faced off with the griffin, defeating it and having Tucker suck the ghost into the thermos.

That was when the griffin turned to him and said 'I have served my purpose.' Then he started to hear Sam calling out to him and--

"Sam!" In a flash, Danny tore open his bedroom door, ran down the stairs, and reached the front door. The moment he placed his hand on the doorknob, a voice filtered through the air and stopped him in his tracks.

"Danny?" Jazz was sitting on the couch in the living room, book in hand, and giving him an amused grin with a quirked eyebrow. "You're not going out in your pink pajamas, are you?"

Looking down, Danny would've blasted himself with an ectoplasmic beam had Jazz not been in the room. Running back up to his bedroom, he changed into a clean pair of jeans and his trademark t-shirt. He was then back at the front door, cramming his feet into his sneakers, and ready to head out when a gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder.

Sky blue met with ocean green. "You have a lot of time. Visiting hours don't end until eight."

Danny gave Jazz a questioning look. "How did you--"

Jazz just smiled knowingly. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you." With that, Jazz pulled Danny into a hug and then pushed him towards the kitchen.

"But right now, you better eat. You can't do much without anything fueling you." And just to prove her point, Danny lacked the strength to wriggle out of Jazz's grip with a growling stomach. Weakened and hungry, he allowed Jazz to sit him down at the kitchen table and hand him a BLT sandwich. He stared at the two slices of bread containing bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes. Though Danny was hungry, the thought of eating didn't seem very appetizing.

Jazz sighed. "I know that you don't feel like eating, but your body needs it." After a few more silent moments, Danny took a bite before devouring the sandwich just to get Jazz off his back. Smiling, Jazz handed him a glass of water, which he seemed to inhale.

It was then that he noticed the stillness and silence of the house.

"Are mom and dad home?"

Picking up the empty plate and glass then placing them in the sink, Jazz took a seat next to Danny. "They went out hunting for the ghost that attacked Sam."

His eyes widened. "How did they know that a ghost attacked Sam?"

A sigh came from her lips and Jazz rested her elbows on the table while placing her chin on her interlaced hands. "Sam woke up around noon--" Jazz noticed Danny start to move and grabbed the back of his shirt, rolling her eyes in light amusement.

"I'll give you a ride."

**000**

Jazz walked out into the hallway, leaving the door open behind her. She chanced one last look at the girl on the hospital bed and nodded at the guard just outside the door before turning her gaze to Danny.

He had let Jazz enter Sam's hospital room first, silently refusing to step into the room until she was done with her visit. At least that was her impression when he just stood there as she entered the room and closed the door behind her without him objecting. He was now leaning against the far wall opposite of her, arms crossed over his chest and head hung low. His bangs covered his eyes, so it was hard to see what expression he was wearing or even if he had realized that Jazz was now in the corridor.

"Danny." At the sound of his name, Danny's head snapped up, eyes darting around until they landed on Jazz.

"Jazz ... Done already?" He seemed eager and anxious at the same time as he fidgeted uncontrollably, especially under the scrutiny of the large man leaning on the opposite wall beside the door. Jazz couldn't help but smile a bit at his behavior.

The Mansons had taken precautions to ensure their daughter's safety, thus the presence of the bodyguard just outside Sam's door as well as many others patrolling the hospital grounds. Jazz had yet to find out the exact number of hired men the Mansons had put in charge of guarding their daughter's life, but with the swarm of black suited men in and out of the hospital, 'a few' was out of the picture.

"Yeah." She walked away from the door and nudged Danny towards it. To this, he stumbled into the hospital room, trying hard not to fall on his face.

"Now it's your turn. I'll be in the waiting room when you're ready to leave." With that, Jazz closed the door behind him with a soft click.

"Danny?" It was a bit muffled and slightly breathless, but he heard his name nonetheless. Looking at the lone hospital bed to his left, Danny was able to put on small smile and swallowed the wisp of blue smoke from escaping his parted lips.

Sam looked just the same as he had left her earlier that morning, but at least she was awake and her skin had regained some of its milky white color. The upper part of her mattress was angled so she could sit up, making the over-sized hospital gown she was wearing hang off one shoulder. The blood IV was still hooked up to her arm, but had obviously been replaced by a newer one.

Her eyes were half-lidded, making them an interesting shade of deep violet. She didn't have any make-up on or have her hair up, which surprised Danny slightly. He hadn't seen Sam 'raw' like this ever since they started middle school. And honestly, she looked much better without being 'dressed-up'. Were it not for the tubes, machinery, and the plastic mask, he would've called her cute.

"Hey, Sam. Sorry I didn't come earlier." Danny coughed into a loose fist and swatted away the azure smoke that found its way there. "I kinda overslept."

From under the mask that was hooked up to the respirator, Sam managed a weak smile. "I could imagine that."

Danny scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. He felt slightly better, but just slightly. Taking a seat in the cushioned chair beside Sam's bed, he kept his eyes on her right hand. It looked just as small and frail as it did when he was last in the room. And the ghostly chills were still strongly apparent as well.

"How are you feeling?" What a wonderful question to ask someone who had fought for her life on an operating table during the wee hours of the day. Danny mentally slapped himself.

"I don't think I can feel more pleasant than I do right now." It was good to know that this ordeal hadn't taken away Sam's sarcastic and witty attitude. Danny couldn't help but smile a bit under the conditions, but that smile was quickly lost when a ghastly shiver raced up his spine. Looking up, Danny met Sam's tired, but laughing eyes with a repenting look.

"I'm sorry."

Sam's small smile immediately vanished, knowing full well what he was apologizing for. "Forget about it."

He lowered his gaze again, fitting his nails tightly over his already scabbing palm wounds (he was an amazingly fast healer). "But if I was there ... you wouldn't have been attacked."

She averted her gaze from his face for a moment and saw how his fists shook slightly. "Probably ... But you kept more people safe going after all those ghosts." His eyebrows rose in surprise and he was about to ask her how she knew about the ghost hunting when she beat him to the punch.

"Tucker came by earlier and told me about your little ghost capturing adventure." Sam could only smile inwardly as refreshed surprise spread upon Danny's face. "'Said that you were being a jerk for ditching him at the warehouse, but he forgives you."

So Tucker had gotten the news. Danny sighed in relief, faint traces of blue flitting through the air. At least he wouldn't have to break it to Tucker that a ghost attacked Sam.

"So did you tell him about your attack?"

Sam looked Danny straight in the eye. "He didn't bring it up and I didn't feel like doing so, but I knew he knew."

Danny could only guess that the Mansons had told Tucker's family about what they knew some time during the day. "Have you told anyone about the ghost?"

Sam turned her gaze towards her window, which didn't give much of a view. You could only see the parking lot and a bunch of trees that bordered the hospital grounds. The only thing worth looking at was probably the cloudless blue sky.

"Just my parents and a police officer, but I was pretty out of it at the time, so I didn't say much." Sam's words made Danny recall his short conversation with Jazz less than an hour ago.

"It was enough to get my parents involved." A silence of the unsettling kind filled the small hospital room and was only broken by Danny's sharp intake of chilling air before he continued speaking.

"What happened?"

Sam met Danny's eyes for a brief moment before looking back at the window, knowing what he had meant. "I really don't want to talk about it."

He couldn't help but feel guilty at making her feel uncomfortable; after all, she had nearly died. What right did he have to ask her to retell a first-person encounter of almost becoming like one of the many specters he battled with on a regular basis?

Danny glanced over all the machinery that Sam was hooked up to. For an instant, the image of her from the night before flashed in his mind, blood pooling around her. He had to make sure that this wouldn't happen again, to her or anyone else. As if on cue, Danny choked back on a blue puff of air.

"Sam, I need to know. Other people could get hurt. For all we know, that ghost probably let you off easy." Something flashed through Sam's eyes, but before Danny could identify the look, it was gone. With a muffled and tired sigh, Sam shifted into a more comfortable position, her brow creasing in thought.

"He wasn't any of the ghosts that I remember or any of the ones you described ..." So it was a guy.

She felt light-headed, but she fought it off with a dull ache at the back of her skull.

"He looked like a samurai ... but without the armor ..." She was speaking more slowly now.

Was it just her or was the room getting darker?

"... wearing a black, white, and ... red kimono ..." As Sam swallowed thickly, Danny instinctively took her hand in his own, noting that it was warmer than the night before.

She felt his gesture and relaxed under his touch, more so than she'd openly admit.

"Sam ...?" His voice was soft and sounded so far away in both of their ears.

"... He said his ... name was ..."

Danny gave her hand a small squeeze.

She had been awake for only five hours. Why was she so tired?

"... Kakinouchi ... Yamashiro ..."

His eyes narrowed and hardened.

Whoever thought that recovering from blood loss and a punctured lung would take so much out of you?

"... I hate ... this ..." _What a great way to start off summer vacation._ With that thought running through her mind, Sam's eyes closed.

Danny didn't fight the shudder that brought a wisp of blue smoke.

Panicked, the halfa was about to call for a nurse or out to the guard outside the door when he realized that there wasn't a long irritating beep mocking him from one of the many monitors in the room. For that, he promptly walked over to the nearest wall to him and pounded his head against it until the guard outside came in to scold Danny to stop.

Sam was asleep.

((1)) According to "Memory Blank", when Desiree is captured, all the wishes she grants become null-in-void. However, for this story, let's just say that they linger on even without her around.

**00000**

YEAH! WE ENDED ON A MORE HAPPIER NOTE:cheers: AND WE KNOW WHO ATTACKED SAM:throws confetti: Too bad we don't know why. :gets stuff thrown at her: Hey!

Guess what! I have an actually storyline being created in my devious little mind as we speak, so I have direction now:cheers: Sorry **treeflower**, I got this idea for a plot before your review came along.

THANK YOU: **lightning streak, autumngold, Ryo's destiny, Cathy, write! ... now, cheerleader4life, b, cheerin4danny, IceSugarHigh, borwneyes, treeflower, Possessed Angel, Susie Bones, RosaSpecter, n5d25d90, DaS4e.** You're all so wonderful! I still can't believe that people are interested in what I write. I FEEL LIKE WRITING SOME MORE!

Anyhoo, Tucker reappears in the next chapter. I'm not quite sure whether or not he'll be a main character for this fic. I want him to, but I don't think it's going to happen.

**_PLEASE BE COURTEOUS AND LEAVE A REVIEW! IT ONLY TAKES A (few) MINUTE(s) (depending on how much you wanna say)! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, COMMENTS, QUESTIONS, CONCERNS, &/OR RANTS APPRECIATED/_**

Sakura Scout


	4. Yon

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, Yamashiro Kakinouchi, Aka-Nami, the 'movie' "Keeper of Souls", the 'magazine' "Tech-Freak Monthly", and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom, Star Wars, or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, George Lucas, and other respective owners.

**00000**

_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER FOUR: YON**_

**00000**

_Kakinouchi Yamashiro_ ... a samurai, who had attacked an innocent girl.

What kind of samurai does that?

Once again, Danny had to think about why this particular ghost attacked Sam. And again, he felt the need to blame himself. If only he had cut the ghost hunting short. If only he had left the Fenton Thermos with her. If only he had brought her along. If only he hadn't taken Tucker with him. If only he had stayed with her. If only--

"Danny?" The addressee blinked, tearing his gaze from passing scenery outside the car window to have his baby-blues settle on Jazz. She kept her tired teal eyes on the road, but stole a hesitant glance at her little brother.

"I know that it's the day right after the whole ordeal but ..." Jazz sighed and made a wide turn. Her usual radiant glow had dimmed, the solemn expression she held making her look far older than sixteen.

"'But' what?" He had a gut feeling that what she was about to ask the very question he wanted to avoid at the moment. Earlier that morning, Danny vaguely remembered his parents and the Mansons throwing question after question at him; 'what happened?' and 'what were you doing out so late at night?' seemed to be their questions of choice. Luckily, his shock had overcome his senses and gave him a valid excuse from explaining himself.

Too bad he didn't have a scapegoat this time.

"Nevermind." They stopped at a red light and Jazz shook her head from side to side, forcing herself to clear her mind as guilt began to creep into her veins. "It's too early to ask."

Danny sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair before going back to viewing the neighborhood race by him as the traffic light turned green. It was moments like these that he was thankful that Jazz could be understanding and put aside her nosy nature.

"You're right ... It _is_ too early to ask." Hopefully his parents were too busy with their ghost hunting to interrogate him. With a creased brow, Danny thought of what his alibi would be, making sure he had a legitimate reason for being out so late and finding Sam out on the streets bleeding to death without looking too suspicious.

Easier said than done.

What about Tucker? Did he have a story to bail himself out of last night? Sam didn't say anything about Tucker other than the fact that he had visited her earlier in the day. Maybe he should call the techie and see if--

The car jerked unexpectedly, tearing Danny from his reverie. He looked at Jazz, who mumbled a quick apology before shifting into reverse. She twisted her upper body towards the back of the car, her bottom lip tugged upwards by her two front teeth. In the moments that followed Jazz's parallel-parking, Danny wondered if Sam's hospitalization had affected Jazz so much as to hinder her driving.

Jazz never choked while driving a car.

After making sure that she had parked properly, Jazz put the gear into park and turned off the engine. Danny opened and shut the car door, hearing a similar muffled gesture from Jazz's side along with the heavy metal sound of an automatic lock. Looking up, 'Fenton Works' was illuminated in bright neon, standing out upon the large satellite that looked like an alien spacecraft set on top the Fenton household.

Just as Danny was about to open the front door, the sound of screeching tires met his ears. Turning around, he came face to face with the Fenton Ghost Finder in the possession of Jack and Maddie Fenton. Jazz had been shoved off the front steps in her parents' haste.

"Eh ... Hi Dad. Hi Mom ... Any luck on the ghost hunting?" Nervousness quickly found its way up Danny's spine and throughout the rest of his being as he shakily rubbed his arm while his eyes looked everywhere except at his parents. As for Jack and Maddie, their bright eyes of hope all too quickly fell to those of disappointment as they checked their equipment for any defects.

Maddie noticed the fallen Jazz and helped her up as Jack glanced at Danny. "Danny my boy, you wouldn't have seen a ghost near by, would you?"

Danny continued to fidget and kept his eyes from returning his father's gaze. "Me? No, no ... I haven't seen a ghost. Not a single one ... ehehehe ... How about you, Jazz?" Neither adult seemed to notice how the words seemed rushed, slurred, and forced.

Maddie and Jack turned their attention to their daughter whom looked at Danny's anxious form and then at her parents. "Not even the slightest clue. Besides, we just got home; how would we know?"

Jack grabbed Jazz around the shoulders with one large arm and whispered to her with shifting eyes, "You just do ... So keep a look out!"

Maddie rolled her eyes and pulled out a small device that resembled the Fenton Ghost Finder except for the small glass container on its top, holding a small (though sizable) shard of metal stained in some sort of black and darkened red ink ((1)). She pushed a few buttons and the metal shard began to faintly glow. "Jack dear, you didn't forget to recalibrate the RV's ghost radar to home in on ectoplasm signatures found on the shard, did you?"

Letting go of Jazz, the bulkier Fenton grinned sheepishly. "Not exactly ..."

"Jack--" Maddie's words were cut off as Jazz and Danny interrupted their mother.

"Ectoplasm signatures?

"Shard?"

Faster than Desiree could grant a wish, Jack regained his composure, grabbed Maddie's Fenton Ghost Finder, and struck a pose with the device held out in front of him, facing his children. "That's right, kids! This is a modified Fenton Ghost Finder that can locate certain ghosts by putting their DNA here." Jack pointed to the small glass container on top. "I call it the 'Modified Fenton Ghost Finder That Finds Specific Ghosts'!"

"Actually, it's just called the 'Modified Fenton Ghost Finder,' or MFGF if you will." Maddie took back the MFGF and tapped the glass container. "The shard that I was talking about is this piece of metal that was removed from Sam this morning. There's enough ectoplasm, ghost DNA, to track down the ghost responsible for harming Sam."

Jazz raised a delicate eyebrow. "What makes you so sure that the ghost who attacked Sam has his blood on there?"

The blue-jumpsuit-clad woman fiddled with a few more buttons. "We're not actually sure about that. In fact, there are multiple ectoplasm signatures detected on the shard--"

"But the culprit is Kakinouchi Yamashiro! His DNA _has _to be on here!" Jack exclaimed.

Danny's ears perked up at the name 'Kakinouchi Yamashiro.' "Dad, do you know who Kakinouchi Yamashiro was?"

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by a loud beeping coming from the MFGF. In reply to the device, he let out his trademark cry. "Ghost! GHOST! **GHOST!**"

"I'm getting a reading from south of Main, heading towards east Landis. We can head them off by taking north Faulkner ((2))." Maddie continued to spout directions as Jack rushed into the RV's driver's seat.

Determination burned like a raging fire in Jack's eyes. A ghost had hurt an innocent girl, who just so happened to be a close friend of his son. Jack briefly recalled the sight of Danny when he entered Amity General Hospital, covered in his best friend's blood and devoid of emotion.

When a ghost messes with his kids, it gets personal.

But before following Jack's example, Maddie turned back to Jazz and Danny. "We'll be out staying in the RV for the next couple of days. The two of you better pack some clothes and stay over at a friend's house for the time being. Call my cell phone so I know where you two are staying. Have fun!"

As the Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle drifted into a right turn and out of sight, Jazz walked past Danny and into the house.

"I'm going to call Amy to see if I can stay over at her place." She turned to Danny, picking up the cordless phone. "I'll call Tucker for you. You go on and pack; I'll even give you a ride if you want."

He shook his head and began ascending the stairs, wondering what kind of person Kakinouchi Yamashiro was and if Tucker knew anything about him. "No thanks. I'll just use the upstairs phone and fl-- err walk on my own. Tucker's house isn't that far." Danny looked down at Jazz from his place on the stairs, checking if she had caught his slip-up. Jazz just blinked a few times then began dialing.

"Sure. I'll be done with the phone in five."

**000**

Tucker kicked his bedroom door open, knocking over a pile of "Tech-Freak Monthly" magazines that had been placed unwisely behind the door. Cautiously, him and Danny entered the bedroom before dropping Danny's pillow, sleeping bag, and duffle bag onto the already crowded floor.

Flopping onto Tucker's bed, Danny gave the African-American an unconvinced look. "Let me get this straight ... You came home around three in the _morning_ and your parents think you got here eleven at _night_. Explain to me _how_ that's possible."

Tucker offered Danny a smug grin from his position at his computer. "Well, you know my parents can sleep through _anything_; even _they_ know that. They said that they fell asleep in front of the TV around 10:30 and didn't wake up until 8 this morning, so they _couldn't_ have known when I got home."

Danny silently wished his parents could be as unaware as Tucker's parents when it came to _his_ curfew. "Lucky you. So how _did_ you get home? The last time I checked the warehouse we were at was on the other side of town."

This was where Tucker started getting all excited. "There was this motorcycle gang of old Vietnam veterans. They gave me lift and--"

Danny sat straight up, giving Tucker 'the look'. "Old _Vietnam veterans_ in a _motorcycle gang_? Isn't that just a _tad_ dangerous to be getting a ride from a bunch of guys who use to _kill_ people, not to mention _highly_ unlikely?"

Tucker shrugged. "I guess, but they were pretty harmless. Besides, it's not as unbelievable as being a human-ghost hybrid."

"Well, you got me there." Danny nodded in agreement, letting the argument die.

It was after a moment of silence that Tucker decided to pipe up again. "Hey! Did you visit Sam today?"

Danny blew at a few locks of hair that had fallen into his eyes. "Yeah, she said that you came by earlier and told her about the ghost hunting last night."

Tucker swiveled a bit in his computer chair. "That's pretty much all we talked about, though. I didn't have the heart to ask her about the attack. The Mansons only told my parents that a ghost got her and that your parents were on the case." Danny wondered if his parents had made any new findings on Sam's attack as Tucker did a full rotation with his chair before talking again.

"What did _you_ talk to her about?" Tucker continued to twist his chair around and looked over at Danny, who was currently staring down at his shoes.

"What ghost attacked her," said Danny, trying to sound casual too hard. Tucker stopped his chair, causing a brief strain in his neck muscles, and looked at Danny with wide eyes. Danny just took vague interest in the fact that he could actually see the floor of Tucker's room.

"Well?" Tucker was practically bouncing from the quickly drawn suspense.

Danny sighed and picked up a 'Star Wars' figurine laying on the carpeted floor, noting that the action figure served no justice to Luke Skywalker. "Do you know anything about a samurai named Kakinouchi Yamashiro?"

Tucker froze, his face paling somewhat. "I-is Yamashiro his f-first name?" His voice was trembling.

Danny looked over at Tucker, one brow raised in curiosity. "Does it really matter?"

"If Yamashiro _is_ his first name, then we should be grateful that he even let Sam live at _all_." The look on the meat-lover's face screamed complete and utter seriousness.

A sudden feeling of dread overcame Danny as he focused his eyes on Tucker's. "Who was he?"

Tucker hesitated, looking away from Danny's piercing gaze, then coming back up with an unreadable expression. "A legend known for a killing spree over 400 years ago called 'Aka-Nami' ((3)), 'Crimson Wave'." The plastic, miniature version of the 'Star Wars' Chosen One fell with a light thud at the foot of Tucker's bed.

Gulping, Tucker continued. "There's no solid proof that he existed, but with over 10,000 sudden brutal deaths recorded in less than a year makes people wonder sometimes. It's kinda hard to believe that he was a respected samurai that hunted demons."

"Wait. He was a good guy?" Both of Danny's thick eyebrows rose, eyes wide with wonder as to what the story was behind this Yamashiro guy.

Tucker nodded numbly, turning around in his chair before going on. Silently, he prayed that he saved the link he found during his 'The Last Samurai' obsession. "I'm not really keen on the details, but he was in this group of samurai warriors that protected people from evil spirits and that kind of stuff. Story goes that he was one of the best there was."

Danny looked down and kicked at the action figure by his feet as Tucker started up his computer. "But what would make him turn and kill all those people? I thought samurais had a strong sense of honor and morality."

Feeling Danny's eyes fall on him, Tucker shrugged. "Even the greatest of heroes fall."

Danny scoffed and kicked 'Luke Skywalker' a little harder, causing the figurine to tumble a few feet away. "That's real encouraging, Tuck."

Tucker frowned and typed in his password. "Hey man, you know I didn't mean it like that."

Danny sighed and fell backwards on Tucker's bed again. "Sorry. I've been out of it lately. By the way, how did you know all this stuff about Yamashiro?"

Tucker double-clicked his mouse on a certain icon, brining up a new window. "After watching 'The Last Samurai', I decided to check some stuff out. I ended up finding this one link relating to old samurai legends. One of those stories was about a guy named Yamashiro Kakinouchi."

Hitting a few more keys, Tucker turned his chair to face Danny. "Now if you'd get off your lazy behind, I'll show you the site."

With a burst of interest, Danny got up and walked over to Tucker as the techie turned his chair back around. The computer screen held a plain red background with neon green lettering. Despite the sudden ache in his skull from the colors, Danny read anyway.

_Over 400 years ago, in Japan's Azuchi-Momoyama Period, there was a man by the name of Kakinouchi, Yamashiro. During his teenage years, Kakinouchi left his village and joined a group of devil-hunting samurai called 'Kurikaeshi' (repetition). Within the next decade or two, Kakinouchi became the leader of Kurikaeshi and grew to be one of the best devil hunters known to Japan. He was a man of honor, well known for his mastery in swordplay just as well as his success in his profession._

_For unknown reasons on a routine hunt, Kakinouchi killed twenty demons, all of Kurikaeshi, and the entire village he was at in cold blood. Afterwards, he went on an eight-month killing spree known as 'Aka-Nami' (Crimson Wave). It is said that 10,000 to 30,000 men, women, and children were killed during this event. There is also the unknown count of demons killed during Aka-Nami, but the amount is said to be in the hundred thousands._

_After Aka-Nami, Kakinouchi was never heard of again. Some say that he lived on as a hermit. Others believe that he took his own life. There are those who believe that he died of natural causes after going insane. Then there are a few individuals that have come to suspect that he became a demon himself and still lives on today._

_Though there is no solid proof that Kakinouchi is a real character in history, the high death count in Japan in one year at the end of the Azuchi-Momoyama Period has many historians considering that it was Kakinouchi's doing. However, with the lack of actual physical evidence, such as Kakinouchi's body and written documentation, historians proceed to discredit the reality of Yamashiro Kakinouchi._((4))

The article ended with several links to other Kakinouchi sites, to which Danny promptly grabbed the mouse and clicked on one. From this, Tucker was been thrown off his chair by the impact of Danny's rush to the computer mouse. As Tucker picked himself up, he saw Danny load another site with a black background onto the screen, glowing red font reading 'Battles of Kakinouchi, Yamashiro.'

_It is known that Kakinouchi Yamashiro was a legendary samurai that hunted bakemono (monsters). Though he was experienced in swordplay when he first joined Kurikaeshi (a demon-hunter group of samurai that Kakinouchi quickly became the leader of), it was through his missions with this group that he became legendary._

Tucker sat back down in his chair and wheeled it back over, making Danny scoot over a bit. Paying no real attention to Tucker, Danny just mindlessly made room for his best friend, eyes still glued to the computer screen.

He needed to get more information on Yamashiro. To find out what had provoked him to kill so many innocents and what had made him attack Sam. But most importantly, Danny needed to find out how he could stop the ghost from doing harm to anyone ever again.

Danny and Tucker just stayed staring at the screen, reading every battle, but only concentrating on what was being described when they reached one certain entry.

_The battle that most are interested in is the mission that went wrong, in which Kakinouchi turned into an uncontrollable killing machine. Unfortunately, there were no survivors of this occurrence, but there were several villagers that had traveled to the village only to find burnt ruins. From what has been said, each body had been hacked to pieces or mutilated beyond recognition. It was with this village that Kakinouchi's killing spree, known as 'Aka-Nami' (Crimson Wave), began._

_Aka-Nami was a mass killing spree that left no witnesses in its wake. Like the village that was Kakinouchi's first victim, every person (including women and children) and bakemono alike had been cut into pieces or disfigured far from identification. From our sources, it is said that Aka-Nami lasted for about eight months, followed with the disappearance of Kakinouchi Yamashiro._((5))

Rubbing his eyes, Tucker leaned back in his chair and looked over at Danny, who was rereading the web page. "Well, now you know what I meant when I said that Sam was lucky."

Danny just looked over the screen one more time before looking at Tucker with a computing look. "But none of this explains _why_ he attacked Sam."

Tucker leaned forward and took the mouse away from Danny, clicking on the address bar and typing in a search engine. "If it makes you feel better, we could see if there have been similar attacks," Tucker hit enter, "or deaths described like the one on the site." Danny froze. He hadn't thought of that possibility.

Had there been other victims before Sam?

((1)) I know that ecto-plasma (ghost blood) is green, as illustrated in "Fright Knight", but I'm sticking with black for effect. I'll keep_ Danny Phantom's_ blood green, but for all other ghosts, let's just say they have black blood, okay?

((2)) 'Landis' is a variant spelling of a real street near my house and 'Faulkner' is the last name of a writer that my Honors English 3 class had to read about.

((3)) 'Akai' mean 'red' and 'nami' means 'wave'. I figured that 'aka-nami' means 'red wave' from the Japanese term 'aka-chochin', which means 'red lantern'. If I'm wrong, please tell me the real Japanese phrase for 'red wave'.

((4)) The character Yamashiro Kakinouchi is purely fictional. All the information associated with Kakinouchi is also fictional (though the Japanese terms and Japan's Azuchi-Momoyama period besides 'aka-nami' are fact), so please don't go around trying to look the guy up.

((5)) I don't know whether or not an event similar to _my_ Aka-Nami ever happened. The events and time period of Aka-Nami, like Yamashiro Kakinouchi, are also purely fictional.

_**00000**_

_**  
**Wow ... I **never** thought I'd be writing something **mystery** related. Should I change the genre?_

_And just if you're wondering: Japanese people introduce themselves by their last name first and then their first name. Weird, huh?_

_Isn't it just sad that I **still** don't have a title for this fic? No. It isn't. It's pathetic. :sigh: If this keeps up, this fic won't have a name until the last chapter. :shakes head: Let's just hope that something will inspire me to title this baby._

_I'D LIKE TO THANK THE FOLLOWING PEOPLE WHO REVIEWED: **autumngold**, **IceSugarHigh**, **Mujitsu Yume**, **Ryo's destiny**, **lighting streak**, **Chibi Fluffly Muffin**, **cheerin4danny**, **cheerleader4life**, **Danni-2005**, **Wiggle Lizard**, **Cosmo fishy**, **DaS4e**, **cabit2K3**. You guys are such great supporters. It's people like you that give me the motivation to write!_

_**Chibi Fluffy Muffin**? The story has some angst, but not enough to have the whole fic revolve around it and I can't write horror for beans. It's sad, but true._

_What's gonna happen in the next chapter, you ask? Well, I'm gonna focus on Sam ... :nods head thoughtfully: Yeah ..._

_****__REVIEW! PLEASE! IT'S WHAT KEEPS ME GOING! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, COMMENTS, QUESTIONS, CONCERNS, &/OR RANTS ARE WELCOME!_

_Sakura Scout_


	5. Go

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, Yamashiro Kakinouchi, Aka-Nami, the 'movie' "Keeper of Souls", and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom, Sprite, or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.

**00000**

_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER FIVE: GO**_

**00000**

Sam watched as the accordion-like machine inflated and deflated with an air sucking sound. She had been staring at the respirator for about an hour, feeling the air filter in and out of the mask she was wearing. She didn't think she could get use to the fact that something inorganic and man-made was helping her breathe.

Tearing her gaze away from the contraption, Sam looked out her window and saw several stars twinkling in the darkness of the night sky.

It was nearly ten at night and she had only woken up two hours ago. Despite the nap she started when Danny was visiting her, she was still tired. Her body screamed for her to go back to rest so it could recuperate, but Sam refused to do so.

She was too afraid of what she would find once she slipped into the world of dreams.

When she had passed out in Danny's arms on the street, she was enclosed in an uninviting darkness. There had been no tunnel with a bright light at the end; in fact, there was nothing there at all. It was a pitch-black void of suffocating cold that dragged her down, deeper into its freezing depths. She had no energy to fight the pull of the unseen force nor had she the breath to scream. Had she not found that the tears would not come, she would have cried herself dry. The entire experience was frightening as she felt herself slip away from the world of the living.

Sam almost cried in pure delight when she woke up at noon to the worried expressions of her parents.

When she held Danny's hand earlier, Sam felt warm and safe. His presence and the firm grasp of his hand upon her own guaranteed that she wasn't alone, calming her. She had fallen asleep in black warmth, a comforting and dreamless sleep. There were no nightmares, but a dark haze that surrounded her like a security blanket, shielding her from all harm.

But now, without death knocking on her door or Danny nearby to reassure her, Sam knew that her subconscious would lead her back to relive her attack by Yamashiro. There was nothing to preoccupy her with once she closed her eyes. Even as she blinked, images of the old and rusted blade flashed behind her eyelids.

Sam hardened her bleary gaze and tried to focus on the gleaming stars visible from her window, eyes failing to remain open.

If she had gone straight home from the movies, would she still have been attacked?

_Sam stretched as she exited theater seven and entered the main lobby, mindlessly tossing her empty Sprite® into a nearby trashcan._

'_Keeper of Souls' had been a better movie than she had expected, especially with its surprising twist ending. Maybe the film was so good because Sam was always a sucker for well written stories where there were no_ real _villains. She almost felt bad that Danny and Tucker had missed seeing the movie._

_Where _had _those two gone?_

No doubt ghost hunting without me. _Sam ended up giving their drinks to a cozy couple three chairs away from her and handing her half-full jumbo-sized popcorn bucket to a preteen that had come with a popcorn-greedy older brother._

_In truth, she felt betrayed that her two best friends hadn't brought her along. In a moment of distress, Sam wondered if they were okay, seeing as how it was taking them nearly two hours to beat a ghost. Perhaps they had just ditched her. She shook her head._

_Danny wouldn't do that, especially after Technus' attack during Dash's party. And Tucker wouldn't_ dare _weaken the already thin line he was on between her good and bad sides. Sighing, Sam walked into the warm night._

_Summer vacation had just started and that meant that the nights would soon be sickly humid. A cool breeze blew past her and she thanked God that it was still breezy. Looking up at the starless sky, Sam wondered if she should head home and get there before curfew._

"_Staying out a bit longer after curfew for a moonlit stroll won't hurt anybody." With that, Sam walked towards Amity Park._

_Little did she know how much she would come to regret her decision._

_Bathed in moonlight, the park had an eerie, yet captivating atmosphere about it. The tops of the trees were a glowing emerald that melded into a murky green with silvery light streaming through the leaves. Every occasional park bench gave off a dull shine of red tinted wood, incased in shimmering black metal. With the few fountains that littered the area, each seemed to glow in a white light as its shadows defined every detail hauntingly. As Sam walked down the moonlit pavement, she became aware that there was no one else out that night._

_Usually, lovesick couples would be making out everywhere, completely oblivious to the fact that other people were strolling about. What was more shocking was that there were no other students around celebrating the end of the school year. It had become an annual event for the seniors to party all night long after graduation and why there weren't any graduates trashing the park had Sam stumped._

They're probably at some party, trashing someone's house instead. _Still, she felt grateful for having the park to herself. There was a small rock a few steps away from her, so in good spirits, she kicked the pebble a few feet away and into a bush. The bush, unlike the mass of trees, was shrouded in the muddled shadows of the taller vegetation. Looking away and down, Sam took notice of how her own shadow was stretched out in front of her on the cement path and led onto a gravel trail._

_She followed the rocky path, trying to place its familiarity and where it led. The narrow road was winding and bordered by a variety of trees. As she passed a small stream, Sam realized where this path was taking her. With childhood memories flooding back to her, she made her way to a place she hadn't been to since elementary school._

_The path led to a small clearing that seemed a lot larger when she was younger. There were wildflowers everywhere with a small clear-water pond right smack dab in the middle_ ((1)). _The moon reflected off the pond and sparkled light over the myriad of flowers, making the whole place glow. It brought back memories of before she became a vegetarian and a goth as well as moments where Tucker had sprung tricks on Danny and her. Spotting a worn-out (though sturdy) gazebo not too far away, Sam walked over and examined it. She ran her hand along the smooth banister and smiled as her fingertips brushed against some indentations in the wood._

_DANNY, TUCKER, & SAM WERE HERE._

_She remembered that day when they had carved their names, recalling that it had been their last time in this place. The three of them had started sixth grade the following week and were too busy with multiple-class schedules and school assignments to come back. She didn't realize it until then how much she missed this place. Sam swung her legs over the banister that had been worn smooth, facing the pond._

_For an hour or two, she just sat there and stared out at the clearing. If you were to look through her eyes, you would see younger versions of herself and her friends running and laughing around the place. When small balls of light_ ((2))_ seemed to appear from nowhere around the area, Sam tore herself away from her reminiscing_.

_Raising a brow and feeling oddly cold, Sam started back the way she came. She had stayed out late enough; it was time to go home. But as she quickened her pace, the chilling feeling that she wasn't alone did not fade; if anything, the presence only became stronger. It was then that she ran to the nearest entrance of the park, which was the farthest from her own house._

_Had she looked back, she would see more balls of fiery light appear in her cooling footsteps._

_Once outside the park, Sam ran towards a destination she wasn't sure of. All she knew was that someone would be able to help her if she kept going in that direction. The moon was in front and high above her, but she paid little to no attention to the satellite. Now cursing at the fact that no one else was out that night, Sam pushed herself into a sprint._

_Her throat burned and it felt as though her lungs would collapse any moment. Her legs were beginning to feel like lead and her pace was slowing all too quickly. Then she felt someone come up from behind her, the out-of-place coldness surrounding her._

_She closed her eyes and moved forward, but rammed into something cold and hard. Opening her eyes and looking up, Sam came face to face with an Asian man in his mid-twenties. He was tall with long raven hair that was tied back in a low ponytail. His outfit was that resembling a samurai without armor. He wore a black, white, and red kimono along with a black hakama (Japanese pants). Resting on his left side, he carried two swords, no doubt that they were both nihonto (Japanese sword(s)). Combined with his handsome and youthful face, he was quite the looker. But what caught Sam's full attention was his sickly green skin and empty glowing red eyes._

_Right when she turned around to run in the opposite direction, the samurai's left arm shot out and grabbed her around the waist. The cold he emitted hit her full force and the musky smell of dried blood and decaying flesh wafted through her senses. As she gathered her bearings, a rusted blade was placed against her throat. She forced herself to breathe calmly, trying her best to ignore the sound of rushing of blood in her eardrums as the rough edge of the blade rested dangerously on top her skin._

"_Would you prefer to die swiftly or agonizingly slow?" His voice was deep and carried with it a silky-smooth flow laced heavily in a Japanese accent. It was almost hard to believe that such a voice would belong to someone who wished to give her death. All at once, Sam was overcome by the need to escape, so she raised one foot and had it come down sharply on the samurai's foot_ ((3)).

_The grip on her loosened and the blade flew away from her neck._

_Sam took a few quick steps forward before seeing a mass of floating flames surround her and then give form to a herd of animals. Ghostly creatures surrounded her, those of land, air, sea, and even those of myth. Within a blink of an eye, the samurai was in front of her; the same dagger that had been held to her throat gleaming with rust from dried blood and an inky-black substance._

"_Forgive me. I should have told you of my servants." The group of deceased beings glared menacingly at Sam, growling and squawking in a rabid manner._

"_They may seem like the lowest of rank, but they are skilled and loyal only to me. For that, they have my complete trust. In fact," his eyes twinkled in a secretive way, "one is being trusted with a _very _important task." The samurai drew closer and seeing that she had nowhere to go, Sam stood her ground. If she was going down, she'd face death head on._

"_Whatever you're going to do, do it quick." A slow shake of the head was her reply as the jagged and rusted dagger was pointed at her again, the worn tip a hair's width away from her neck._

"_If you had wanted to die without delay, you would have allowed me slice your throat in the very beginning." The dagger was withdrawn from Sam's neck, only to come back at her in a single graceful arc of blood. Pain wasn't the first thing that registered in her mind, only the feeling of something important leaving her body. She stumbled back a few steps, but shakily regained her composure, steadying her gaze upon her attacker._

"_Who are you?" Empty eyes hardened, but did little to veil a hurt that no man alive could possibly know._

"_I am Kakinouchi Yamashiro;" a sad smile graced his lips, "your executioner." In an instant, Yamashiro was there along side her. His left arm supported her weight as his right held the degrading dagger in her gut. Sam gasped and shivered at the feeling of the jagged metal being jabbed into her. She swallowed hard and looked up, glaring daggers at Yamashiro. All the ghost did was smile at her sadly in an almost crazed kind of way._

"_It's been so long since I have killed a person of the living world. So long since I have felt the beating of one's heart pour out blood from an injury. I should thank you for being the first in so many centuries." Sam forced herself not to shiver in disgust or cry out in pain. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how his words truly affected her. Yamashiro saw her struggle within and saw how her eyes remained focused, unwavering upon him._

"_Life is fleeting; you must live it without regrets. Do you have any regrets, now that you know you are slipping from this life to the next?" Sam felt him push the dagger deeper into her body with a slight twist of the wrist. Something deflated within her and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. The reality of it all was finally getting to her._

_She was actually going to die._

"_Of course," the vicious bite in her tone was pleasing to her ears. Despite her pain, Sam made sure her voice did not waver nor that tears came to her eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that he was expecting her to cry a river, but he didn't deserve her tears. Taking in a ragged breath, she hardened her gaze. She might have been scared about this whole ordeal, but like _Hell_ was she going to show it for a creep like him. _

_For a moment, Yamashiro froze and regarded Sam with a wistful expression. If Sam didn't know better, she would've said that he had given her the look someone gives to a long-lost lover._

"_But there is_ one _regret that overshadows your heart completely." She felt the abnormality of the blade being swiftly removed from her person. Something broke inside her, but she knew very well that it was neither emotional nor any part of her physical body._

"_What a shame." Gently, she was helped to stand up and felt the cold air around her vanish all at once, only to be replaced by a chill spreading through her chest. There were no ghostly creatures nor samurai in the area around her, only glowing spheres of light that were all too quickly fading into the darkness._

_Still in shock and not quite feeling the full impact of her injuries, Sam began to walk in the direction she had originally started on before Yamashiro had caught her. Only one thought crossed her mind at that moment._

"_I have to find Danny."_

Breathing heavily with tears streaming from tightly shut eyelids, Sam laid asleep on her hospital bed. Unknown to her, somewhere not too far away, someone wide-awake in a sleeping bag got up from his position on the floor and went ghost.

((1)) Believe it or not, this clearing was based on an area that I often saw during this one camping trip with my church when I was around 10 years old.

((2)) The small flaming lights are commonly known in Japan as 'hitodama', 'spirit lights'. Seeing these little buggers is considered a sign that someone will die soon.

((3)) I know that ghosts can't really be touched by humans, but just go with me on this.

**00000**

I JUST DESCRIBED SAM'S ATTACK! So now you know how it happened. But **why** did it happen? Did Yamashiro just want to kill? Or has he's been targeting Sam for a while:shrugs: Who knows? You'll just have to read and find out.

And now to thank all of you lovely people who reviewed. THANK YOU SO MUCH: **Mujistu Yume**, **IceSugarHigh**, **Ryo's destiny**, **Wiggle Lizard**, **Saiya Woods**, **StarStar16**, **cheerin4danny**, **n5d25d90**,** SkyePhantom**. YOU GUYS ROCK!

And to **cheerin4danny**: All my knowledge of the samurai comes from my possession of 'The Anime Companion: What's Japanese in Japanese Animation?' by Gilles Poitras. So ... I'm not really that much of an expert, I just look up the stuff I need to know.

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER: Uh ... Well, from the last sentence you can probably guess.

**_REVIEW PLEASE!_** :gets on knees:**_ I'M BEGGING YOU! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, COMMENTS, QUESTIONS, CONCERNS, &/OR RANTS WELCOME!_**

Sakura Scout


	6. Roku

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ... :gets weird stares: What? Can't a girl just laugh manically for the heck of it?

I guess I should explain the layout of Sam's hospital room so you'll have a clearer view of how the scenes play out. We'll start by standing in the doorway, facing into the room. On your left, you have Sam's bed, a chair on the right and left sides of the bed. On either side of the bed is machinery, the respirator on the bed's left. Going back to the doorway, on the right of the room, the first thing you'll see is a long table underneath the TV up on the wall near the ceiling. Into the far corner of the room is a door that leads to Sam's private bathroom. Now on the far wall from the door is Sam's window with the crummy view.

If that didn't make sense ... I'm sorry ... I failed you all ...

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, Yamashiro Kakinouchi, Aka-Nami, the 'movie' "Keeper of Souls", and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.

**00000**

_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER SIX: ROKU**_

**00000**

Danny couldn't sleep, his mind was still reeling with the findings Tucker and him discovered. Or should he say the _lack_ of findings Tucker and him discovered?

There had been no similar attacks to Sam's nor any unexplained brutal deaths as described in the Yamashiro Kakinouchi sites.

Sighing, Danny turned on his side, facing one of the windows in Tucker's room. The moon filtered through the dusty white blinds, making striped shadows on the wall.

In truth, he was glad that there weren't any other victims that had befallen the same fate as Sam or something worse by Yamashiro's ghostly wrath. However, he still wished he could have found something on _why_ Yamashiro had done what he did to Sam.

Was the deceased samurai trying to grate on Danny's nerves? Or was he having some twisted fun with the halfa before coming in for the kill? Or could it be that it was his intention to go after Sam from the beginning?

Danny balled up his hands into fists, threatening to reopen the nearly healed wounds on his palms. It was times like these when his mind was restless and he needed to vent out his frustration that he wished a ghost was nearby. He would even take on Vlad, just to distract himself from his thoughts.

Then something began to build in his chest. The presence of fear surrounded him, crawling upon his skin and spreading through his very being. It almost seemed superficial, though, as if he was feeling someone _else's_ fear.

An image of Sam, alone in her hospital bed appeared in his mind. It was blurred, but the picture was vivid enough to depict the moonlight pooling over her small form and he swore that he could hear a soft sob.

He kicked his sleeping bag open and stood up, disregarding the rush of blood to his head at the sudden movement. Without breathing a word, two rings of light appeared around his middle before spreading to the rest of his body. A cold chill chased after the light, then came back to his chest and faded away along with the rings of white.

His body moved on its own, almost as if it was on autopilot. One moment he was in Tucker's room and the next, he was in the clear night sky with Amity Park General Hospital plain in sight. Exhaling blue smoke, he came to stop outside one window on the ground floor and phased through it to hover a few inches off titled ground.

Just two feet away from where he floated was Samantha Manson, asleep on her hospital bed.

_She took little notice that she had been repeating her best friend's name over and over in a breathless drawl. All she focused on was finding him. There was something that needed to be said and she wanted to say it before she no longer had the breath to do so._

_Within that moment, she lost all feeling in her body, overcome by a sort of numbness. She barely recalled something dribbling out of her mouth and making its way down her neck to her tank-top as she inclined her head upwards. The moon was large and bright; truly a beautiful scene, but no such thought crossed Sam's mind._

I'm not gonna be able to reach him. I've had so many chances and I took them all for granted. I'll never be able to tell him--

_A light weight was placed on her shoulder and Sam looked to her side. She lost her strength to stand and proceeded to fall, only to have a pair of arms firmly secure her in their hold. He held her gaze as he gently placed her on the ground before turning his attention to her wounded abdomen._

_He was here._

_She gasped, only to cough uncontrollably, blood spraying onto his black jumpsuit. Her arms, like her legs, felt like lead or maybe they were like jelly. Actually, they felt like some crazed combination of both matter; they were too heavy for her to lift and too numb to control._

"_Danny?"_

_He turned his gaze to her, his expression grim and she could see silent rage burning in his eyes. "Sam ... Who did this?_ What _did this?" Now was her chance, she might not have another._

_But his question was simple enough to answer._

"_... Ghost ..." She felt him apply too much pressure on her stomach too quickly, causing her to wince._

_When Sam opened her eyes again, the anger that had caused his neon green eyes to turn a clouded forest green vanished and was replaced with overwhelmed concern and repentance. "Oh God ... Sam, I'm so sorry." She shook her head and opened her mouth, signaling him that she had more to say._

_If she didn't say it now, she'll never be able to._

"_... 'Said ... that ...--" She couldn't fight the scratchy feeling in her throat nor the blood that came along with the coughs. Taking a breath was out of the question as her throat closed up and her lungs burned as if they would explode. There was a firm pat and gentle rubbing on her back. After the coughing resided, Danny nodded at her to continue._

"_... That ... 'life is ... fleeting ... you must ... live it ... without ... regrets ...--'" She winced with eyes tightly shut, the pain becoming overwhelming. With a few deep breaths, the world became hazier and the chill that had been resting in her chest spread throughout her body like wildfire._

_Great. This was possibly her_ last _chance to tell Danny her_ biggest _secret (more than being filthy rich) and she had stalled up to the very last moment._

He changed back to his 'normal' human form, clad only in red plaid pajama bottoms. The tiled floor was cool under his bare feet and caused a shiver to run up his spine. As another wisp of breath crystallized before his eyes, he wondered if it was due to the constant presence of death in hospitals or because hospitals were always so deathly cold. Wishing he had worn a shirt, Danny padded over to the left side of the hospital bed and gazed over at Sam.

She looked worse than when he first saw her on the bed, hooked up to all the machinery. The tears came in small streams and shimmered in the moonlight. They probably would've looked beautiful were it not for the pained expression on Sam's face. And there was no doubt in his mind that if she wasn't in such a weakened state, she would be tossing and turning.

It made his chest constrict painfully at how vulnerable and scared she looked. More so, all of this was the fault of one deranged samurai ghost. A familiar rage began to boil in his veins and he once more clenched his fists tightly, virtually healed skin straining against the pressure. Blue eyes darkened dangerously, flashing an electric green, but returned to their original ice-blue at the sound of whimpering. His fists undid themselves and the anger in him diminished into nothing.

He vaguely wondered how one person could cause him to shift between emotions so quickly.

Tossing away such thoughts, Danny took Sam's left hand into his own while his right brushed away the bangs matted to her forehead and wiped away her tears. Almost immediately, she calmed under his touch and the tears ceased to come. Though the 'cold' still caused him to see his breath, a tired smile formed on his lips as he saw her physically relax.

"I'm right here, Sam."

_The darkness was cold and frightening, so she curled up into a small, shivering ball. She felt something reach out for her in the void and drag her down into its depths at an alarming speed. Her throat was unbelievably dry, so no coarse scream came from her lips. Blinking against the dark, tears of fright and anguish refused to pool in her wide amethyst eyes._

_Then all at once, the cold disappeared and warmth surrounded her, banishing all the fear and distress in her. The force that had been pulling her downwards released her and shied away into obscurity._

_There was something familiar about the presence that was now wrapping her in lulling shadows. It was something that she had always cherished and wished to experience every waking and sleeping moment of her life._

"_I'm right here, Sam."_

"Danny ...?" She blinked a few times, her blurry vision focusing and adjusting to the dimness of the room. Tilting her head ever-so-slightly to her left, sleepy amethyst met relieved and tired ice-blue. The weary smile gracing Danny's features brightened by a fraction. His hand retracted from her face and he pulled up a chair, making sure that his left hand never broke contact with Sam's. At this moment, a confused expression found its way onto Sam's face.

"What are you :yawn: doing here?" Her eyes were still fogged with sleep, but held their accustomed glimmer.

Danny ran one hand through his dark hair, a small nervous laugh escaping his lips. "I had this weird feeling that you needed me."

Sam cocked an eyebrow, but smiled nonetheless. "That doesn't explain anything, but I'm glad you came."

He gave her hand a squeeze, his eyes softening at her smile while he fought back the blue smoke he felt rising from his throat. "Anytime."

They stayed like that for a moment; content with the company they were keeping. However, this did only so much to ease the weight on Sam's heart and it showed as she lowered her gaze, swallowing audibly.

Danny squeezed her hand again, having a good idea what she was about to say. "You had a nightmare."

She nodded and sighed. "It was about the attack ..."

Seeing her hesitate, Danny let out a breath, though not really a sigh. "You don't have to tell me. At least not yet--"

Sam shook her head, a few locks falling into her eyes. "No ... You have to know what happened."

Danny shifted in his seat, fighting down another 'ghost sense attack'. "It can wait for later. It's still too early--"

Sam pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. "Just shut up and _listen_ to me. You said so yourself, 'other people could get hurt'."

He wanted to protest, but his own words had defeated him. It was true, the information that Sam had could possibly help him beat Yamashiro. "I'm listening."

Sam waited a moment, fidgeting with her right hand, which was resting on her healing abdomen.

"I didn't go home right after the movie ..." So the story began ...

**000**

... and finished with some _minor _details left out of the dialogue. These details were, of course, of the thoughts that went through Sam's mind and what feelings she underwent during the time the event took place.

"Then you found me." She looked up from her hand to get a look of Danny's expression. His bangs were covering his eyes, but she knew that they were probably darker than they normally were. Her left hand felt slightly compressed and she noticed how his arms trembled a bit, but missing the faint blue mist that was expelled. A hiss was heard, notifying Sam that Danny had most likely set his jaw firmly in place.

"He sent the griffin."

Sam raised an eyebrow, confused. "The griffin that led you and Tucker to the warehouse?"

He gave a curt nod and an odd presence surrounded Sam, though it was undoubtedly familiar to the hospital. "That's what Yamashiro meant when he said that one of his lackeys was doing something for him." Danny's right hand was set in a fist and came slamming down on the armrest of his chair, causing the metal to ring soundly.

Sam flinched at the force of the blow while coming to terms with something that hadn't crossed her mind before. "He was trying to keep you away from me."

He kept his head tilted downwards with his hair shadowing over his facial features and Sam couldn't help but feel helpless in alleviating his agitation.

"Just long enough so he could get to you." Danny let out another hiss of air through his clenched teeth.

"I shouldn't have brought Tucker along. If he stayed with you--"

"He might have gotten hurt, too." She sighed. "I hate to say it, Danny, but I don't think that you could've stopped Yamashiro even if you wanted to."

He shook his head furiously. "That's what I thought, too. But then why would he bother to keep me busy if I wasn't a threat to him?"

Another thought crossed her mind. "He _wanted_ you to find me."

He nodded, his bangs swaying lightly and casting off a faint glow. "No doubt, but ..." Danny lifted his gaze to meet hers, light fear etched into his facade.

"I don't think he wanted me to find you alive."

Sam creased her brows thoughtfully as worry began to fill her being. "Do you think he'll come back after me?"

His gaze hardened and squeezed her hand gently. "I won't let Yamashiro hurt you again."

Confused, she searched his eyes for something. "Danny--"

He stood up from his seat and loosed his hold on her left hand. "I promise that I'll protect you, Sam."

She tightened her grasp and pulled his arm closer to her with both her hands, beckoning him back with a demanding eye. "You're not telling me something."

Danny focused on how Sam's hair was slightly mused in a way that made her look cute.

"Tucker knows more about it than I do." It wasn't exactly the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie either. Though he and Tucker had been scrolling around sites together, the techie knew more about samurais than Danny did.

"We'll come by tomorrow--err ... later today ... Or ... Uh ... What time is it?" Danny's faltering eased the tension in the room and Sam couldn't help but smile a bit, stifling a yawn. This only caused Danny to break out into a grin, coughing back a chuckle and a breath of cold air.

Getting no real reply, he proceeded to step away from the hospital bed, but hesitated. "Are you gonna be alright?"

A light dip of her head and the almost unnoticeable wavering of her darkening eyes were enough of a hint. "Yes." Danny couldn't help but sigh and roll his eyes.

Typical Sam.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep."

Sam tried to glare at Danny for finding her weak, but a cute little pout was the only thing she could muster.

She couldn't ask for a better friend.

He took his seat again and scooted it a bit closer to Sam's bed. Her right hand went back to rest by her side as Danny rubbed his thumb over the knuckles of her left hand. Sam yawned again, finding it extremely hard to keep an almost-angry face at her companion.

"I hate you," her words coming out in a tired smile as her eyes drooped and the world around her began to haze.

"No you don't," was the reply, but she was already slipping into a peaceful slumber to protest. Danny grinned lazily at her; something at the back of his mind reassured him that Sam would be fine for the rest of the night.

**00000**

KUDOS TO: **Saiya Woods**, **Ryo's destiny**, **autumngold**, **Crazed Fan**, **StarStar16**, **fariefan**, **Calm Soul**, **Wiggle Lizard**, **JadeRabbyt**, **galabalesh**, **n5d25d90**! I don't think I would have the strength to continue on with this fic without you guys supporting me.

For the record: I am **not** a vampire and I **don't** like blood. It's the truth. And I'm sorry **JadeRabbyt**. I only went through my e-mail and reviews today. I'm glad and honored that you want to be my beta reader and I'll see if I can send you the draft for chapter 7 by Wednesday (that is if I'm able to write it by then).

_**EVERYONE LOVES TO GET FEEDBACK! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, COMMENTS, QUESTIONS, CONCERNS, &/OR RANTS WELCOME!**_

Sakura Scout


	7. Shichi

Oh my gosh! It's chapter seven and we're only on the **second** day into the story! Don't worry. We're getting there, slowly but surely.

And I'd like to give a little shout out to JadeRabbyt, who was my beta reader for this chapter. So if this chapter is better written, which I hope it is, it's because of her. She's a really good writer, too. JadeRabbyt is the author of a great DP fic titled 'Saving Sam'. Please take the time to read it if you haven't already done so. I promise you won't be disappointed.

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, Yamashiro Kakinouchi, Aka-Nami, the 'movie' "Keeper of Souls", and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.

**00000**

_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER SEVEN: SHICHI**_

**00000**

There was an unsettling silence in the room as Danny and Tucker finished their explanation on Yamashiro Kakinouchi. The two had come to visit Sam directly after attending the morning service, which Danny slept through, at a local church with Mr. and Mrs. Foley. It was hard for both of them to tell Sam that what happened to her was nothing compared to what Yamashiro could've done, but they managed to do so. The clarification wasn't as blunt, although the reality of it all _did_ make it difficult for Sam to hear.

Tucker shifted in his chair, positioned at the right of the hospital bed, keeping his eyes on the tiled floor beneath him. Danny, seated at Sam's left, watched as the injured girl took in a shaky breath. His own breath nearly froze the back of his throat in his attempt to keep it from appearing to the public eye. Sam was sitting up with the help of her angled mattress, her head slightly tilted downwards.

"So he _is_ going to come after me." Her bangs covered her forehead and fell into her eyes, though they did not conceal the deadpan expression upon her face.

"We're hoping that he was just trying to tell Danny that he means business," said Tucker, taking note of how the tile had a faded gleam to it.

"You don't know that." Sam leaned further into her mattress as Danny made eye contact with her.

"That's true, but ..." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's the only explanation we can come up with." Sam shook her head. What Danny was saying didn't seem to fit.

"But Yamashiro's a samurai. He wouldn't do something so cowardly--" Sam would have continued had Tucker not cut her off.

"He's killed thousands of men, women, and children, remember?" The young African American creased his brow at the shadow of the hospital bed on the floor, voicing his question to the stable ground.

Sam shot a strict look at Tucker, who had only now lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Just because he's a murderer doesn't mean he would use such an indirect approach. If he _really_ wanted to go after Danny, then he would've done so." Her voice was tight, almost as if she was trying to stress the point to a young child.

One of Tucker's brows was highly arched as he spoke. "You _do_ realize that if you're right, you might be in some _serious_ danger, right?"

Sam fiddled with her medical bracelet. "Yamashiro wanted me to die ..." Danny began to protest despite the fact that he knew that she was right, but Sam spoke before he could, meeting his eyes before lowering them.

"He said I was the first person to be killed by him in hundreds of years," Sam bit down on her lower lip, "and I need to die for that to happen." At a loss for words, Tucker took off his glasses and wiped them with a cloth, not wanting to wrinkle his red dress-shirt. Danny pulled at the collar of his green polo shirt, keeping his eyes on Sam's solemn face.

He needed to reassure her that nothing was going to happen to her.

"Sam," the name rolling off his tongue with accustomed ease. She turned to him with her somber expression, also catching Tucker's interest as he put his glasses back on. Danny took a breath.

"I promised that I'll protect you and I meant it." At his words, some warmth filtered into Sam's eyes as she recalled their conversation the night before.

"I know." The reply was small and soft-spoken, but Danny knew that Sam trusted him and that she knew he would never break his promises. The two held each other's gazes a moment longer until Tucker decided to cough loudly into a loose fist.

"I _really_ hate to break up this touching little love scene you two have going on, but it looks like Danny and I have to leave." Tucker grinned at the sight of both Danny and Sam blushing a deep crimson. The halfa brought up his right wrist to look at his watch, his eyes widening at the green numbers of 3:14.

They had arrived at the hospital at 1:47.

"Shoot! You told my parents Yamashiro's description and our alibi, right?" Sam nodded, a smile gracing her lips that served as a cute companion to her light blush. Danny, in turn, said a rushed goodbye and scurried over to the hallway door, which Tucker was currently holding open. As Danny made a mad dash out and down the corridor, Tucker turned back to Sam.

"We're gonna see if we can find any real answers later tonight." He started to close the door, but stopped.

"I don't know what happened last night between you two, but don't count me out on Danny's promise. I'll do what I can to help my best friends." Tucker closed the door closed with a soft click, leaving Sam with the guarantee of two friends to keep her safe.

**000**

It was darker that night than they had hoped, but at least there weren't any spectators crowding around the yellow police tape. Danny and Tucker had passed by the 'crime scene' earlier that day after their visit with Sam. People lined the sidewalks and whispered behind the backs of their hands. Rumors, from simplistic to outrageous, floated in the air and all of them made Tucker sick and Danny pissed.

"_Have you heard about Sam Manson …?"_

"_You know that goth girl …?"_

"… _poor girl …"_

"… _what a freak …"_

"… _a ghost attack …"_

"… _story is she tried to kill herself …"_

"… _some kind of séance …"_

"… _begged a ghost to kill her …"_

" … _Inviso-Bill's behind it …"_

"… _wish she'd just died already …"_

It took everything in Danny's being to keep himself from lashing out at the crowd.

But now, late at night, the place was deserted save for an 'inconspicuous' looking Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle. The high-tech mobile home was parked on the opposite side of the 'crime scene' beside a dead-end alley, 'cloaked' with brick wall camouflage. A satellite dish was currently whirring about, on the alert for spectral activity, and one 'brick' was missing from the 'wall' to give access to scanning eyes.

Thinking of this in advance, Danny made sure that Tucker brought along the still full Fenton Thermos. Getting the 'go' from Danny, Tucker took the lid off the thermos and hit the 'release' button. Skulker, Desiree, the wish ghosts ((1)), the Box Ghost, and the griffin all burst out of the cylindrical container, flying as fast as they could to escape being captured once more.

And just as planned, the Fenton RV blew its cover as it zoomed after Desiree and her hoard of wish ghosts. While the Fenton adults went after Desiree, Danny went after the griffin as Tucker recaptured Skulker.

The griffin soared at a surprisingly fast speed, especially since the creature had wounded its wing and was now making it hard for Danny to keep up. They weren't really going anywhere, simply in circles around the neighborhood. With all the twists and turns the lion-eagle hybrid was making, there was no doubt that the stunts were to shake off the halfa. Despite the momentum the griffin was going at and the light dizziness building in his head, Danny managed to fire an ectoplasmic beam at the griffin's still injured wing.

The griffin crashed with a sickening crunch somewhere amongst a mass of trees in the park.

Danny breathlessly circled the area before coming in for a landing, finding the griffin lying on its side with one wing mangled beneath it. When it caught sight of Danny, it tried desperately to escape. It had good reason with the look of bloody murder burning in Danny's glowing jade eyes. The griffin was only able to crawl a good two feet before crumpling into a heap with a heart-wrenching shriek.

However, Danny wanted answers and he didn't care what condition his forced witness was in.

An image of Sam covered in her own blood flashed in his mind as he loomed over the wounded mythical creature. Fury boiling in his veins, Danny took a deep breath and kept himself from beating the griffin into a bloody pulp.

"_Why_ did Yamashiro attack my friend?" Danny's tone was low and deadly, sending the griffin cowering in fear.

"My m-master has his r-reasons." The beast averted its gaze from Danny, tucking its beak under its uninjured wing. The material of Danny's gloves stretched as he balled his hands into fists.

"What reasons?" Danny watched through narrowed eyes as the griffin scooted a few inches before he stepped in front of it.

A sputtering of black liquid came from the griffin's beak. "Master _n-never_ speaks of h-his reasons."

Danny tapped his foot in frustration and folded his arms, not satisfied with the reply. "Are you sure about that?"

"H-he has k-killed _many_ ghost and d-demons ... b-but _never_ has he e-explained himself." The griffin dipped its head low and closed its eyes tightly. Danny raised a brow in curiosity.

Ghosts could die?

"Is he targeting me?" A black inky substance was beginning to pool around the griffin, as Danny received no reply.

"Well!"

The griffin wheezed and flapped its working wing a few times. "I d-do ... n-not know ..." Ecto-plasma pooling under the winged creature bubbled like low burning tar.

What was going on?

"Is he _really_ trying to kill my friend?" Danny's patience was running dry. He needed answers and he wasn't in the mood to wait for them.

The deceased 'bird' squawked in pain, unable to answer the question for a brief moment. "I d-did ... not ask ... M-master only s-said for me ... to k-keep you and t-the boy away ..."

As if by cue, Tucker appeared on the scene. He took a look at the griffin then at Danny with a questioning look. Danny simply nodded towards Tucker, who took out the Fenton Thermos and trapped the griffin in the container again. "What happened? It looked like you smashed that griffin pretty bad."

Danny looked down where the ghost had laid in a heap, the black liquid still there. "I shot it down and it landed hard on its injured wing."

Tucker followed Danny's gaze and kneeled by the puddle. "What is this stuff? Ghost blood?"

Danny shrugged. "I guess. My parents showed me some samples before." Tucker nodded and stood up, but the moment he did he was met by transparent overalls.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!" Tucker and Danny exchanged a look as the 'master of all things cardboard and square' hovered about them yelling out 'Beware' and box puns.

"I could take him out with the thermos," Tucker saw Danny's eye twitch. "Or do you wanna let off some steam?"

Danny cracked his knuckles. "All I need is ten minutes."

Tucker took a seat by a nearby tree. "You've got all night."

The Box Ghost froze in place when he saw Danny advance towards him ((2)). "Umm ... Beware?"

**000**

Tucker put the Fenton Thermos down with the opening facing downwards on the Fenton Ghost Portal's control panel. Locking the thermos in place, the meat-lover hit the release button and watched as Skulker, the griffin, and the battered Box Ghost swirled around the entrance of the Ghost Portal before disappearing into its depths.

Danny Phantom stepped up to the portal, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Maybe I should go in."

Tucker yawned as he took the Fenton Thermos off the control panel and placed the lid back on, raising a brow at Danny. "You mean the Ghost Zone? You just sent in Skulker and Walker will want you back in jail."

Danny rolled his eyes. "They're not going to come after me right away."

"I know you want to get some real answers," the young tech-geek slung the thermos onto his back, "but can't you just go after Desiree and get her to tell you stuff? She's been around long enough to know _something_ about Yamashiro."

"Maybe, but not right now." Stifling a yawn, Danny walked over to Tucker and closed the Ghost Portal.

Tucker stretched in place before turning to Danny. "Yeah. We could both use some shuteye."

The halfa went intangible, zooming through the solid walls of the empty Fenton household and taking to the sky, Tucker under his arm. "You can sleep, but I gotta check on Sam first."

Tucker sighed as he saw his bedroom window come into view. "I got a feeling that this'll be a nightly thing until you stop Yamashiro for good, huh?"

"We still don't know if he's after me or Sam." Danny phased through the wall and into Tucker's room before solidifying his best friend and putting him down.

The African-American kicked off his shoes. "He hasn't come after her since Friday."

Danny hovered closer to the window. "That was only two days ago. I have to make sure Sam's safe."

"Fine. Just don't go after Desiree until ..." Tucker glanced at his alarm clock, "later today. You'll need all the energy you can get. Who knows how many wish ghosts she's made."

Half way through the wall, Amity Park's own personal superhero replied with a disgruntled "Whatever."

Without waiting for his friend's response, Danny phased through the rest of the wall and made his way to Amity General Hospital as quickly as he could. When he arrived in Sam's room, a soundly sleeping Sam greeted him, no tears falling from closed eyelids.

He stayed in phantom form as he took a seat on Sam's left and let a small smile grace his lips, watching her take in deep breaths with the rise and fall of her chest. The machinery hummed, wheezed, and beeped around him, but Danny only focused on how peaceful Sam looked. Then he removed his right glove and let his bare hand tuck a loose lock of hair behind Sam's ear. She visibly shivered under his touch, but didn't pull away as he let his hand linger against her cheek. Reluctantly, Danny withdrew his hand and noticed that Sam was just as displeased with the lack of contact by the gentle crease of her brow. He would make a few rounds around the hospital to make sure everything was okay before he would turn in for the night.

Just as Danny put his glove back on and stood from his chair, a soft voice filtered through his mind.

_Stay ..._

Danny froze and looked down at Sam. Her eyes were still closed and her breathing was even. It took him a moment, but the halfa eventually turned his gaze from Sam's sleeping form, only to be stopped again.

_Stay ..._

He backtracked to hold her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as he leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"I'll be right back." Breathing in the faint scent of lavender and something heavenly from Sam's raven hair, Danny pulled away from her and let go of her hand, missing her warmth. Only one thought ran through Danny's mind as he exited the hospital and proceeded to circle the large building before going intangible to scan the structure itself.

_Why can I hear her?_

((1)) You know how all the wishes Desiree grants makes custom ghosts? Well I just decided to give those ghosts a name, so I have dubbed them the 'wish ghosts'. Corny, but it works.

((2)) Sorry Box Ghost fans, but Danny's been keeping all his anger and frustration in. That's bad for your health. He needed to vent it all out and the Box Ghost was the only one not captured or being chased after. I have _nothing_ against the guy; he's just an easy target. I'm sorry!

**00000**

DOMO ARIGATO: Calm Soul, Saiya Woods, Ryo's destiny, soccergurl1990, cheerin4danny, Wiggle Lizard, autumngold, JadeRabbyt, big harry potter fan, DaS4e, StarStar16, fariefan, KkazakK, Wolf's Angel. Really, you guys rock!

All I can say about the next chapter is that it'll take place the Friday since the attack.

**_I ABSOLUTELY ADORE GETTING REVIEWS! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, COMMENTS, CONCERNS, QUESTIONS, &/OR RANTS WELCOME!_**

Sakura Scout


	8. Hachi

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, Yamashiro Kakinouchi, Aka-Nami, the 'movie' "Keeper of Souls", and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.

**00000**

_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER EIGHT: HACHI**_

**00000**

_Danny chased Desiree past the movie theater and towards the back alley, eyes catching a glimpse of several wish ghosts. Just as Desiree rounded the corner, a pair of large mechanical gloves grabbed her around the mid-section with arms trapped at her sides. The one responsible for this little trap was none other than Tucker Foley, sporting the Fenton Ghost Gloves._

"_I wish that all your loose wish ghosts were in this thermos." Danny brought up the Fenton Thermos and removed the lid. Desiree made a face, but obeyed nonetheless, green spectral energy shooting out from her being. A stream of wish ghosts coursed into the Fenton Thermos and as the last wish ghost was sucked into the cylindrical container, Danny replaced the cover._

"_I've done as you have wished. What else do you require of me, Phantom?" Accompanying the genie's biting tone and firmly set jaw was a glare that could kill. Taking a brief moment, Danny took a few slow breaths before planting his feet on the ground, still in phantom form._

"_Do you know anything about Yamashiro Kakinouchi?" The halfa pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as Desiree laughed mockingly._

"_The ghost killer that attacked your girlfriend, correct?" Desiree couldn't contain a sadistic smile, but it did not cover her underlying fear._

"_Hold up." Tucker raised a brow, but kept his grip on the genie. "'Ghost killer?'" He looked over to Danny, who remained silent with eyes set on Desiree. Danny would need to explain a few things once this interrogation was over. Teal eyes turned back to Desiree as she gave a curt nod, her expression that of disgust._

"_The man has the gall to kill his own kind." The gipsy-dressed ghost sneered with malice. "Walker, at least, contains us."_

"_He still kills demons too, right?" Danny had been wondering whether or not Yamashiro did so, after all, the griffin only mentioned that the samurai murdered ghosts. Rolling her eyes, Desiree continued to speak._

"_Kakinouchi hunted demons and ghosts while he was_ alive _, but ceased to exterminate demons and continued to slaughter the inhabitants of the Ghost Zone once he left his body. As to why, no one knows." Desiree averted her eyes to a random spot on the nearby wall. Obviously, the topic made her uncomfortable, though she wore a well constructed poker face._

"_But is he after me?" The thought had been running through Danny's mind ever since the night/morning of the attack._((1))

"_Since his death, Kakinouchi hasn't attacked, much less killed, a human ..." A cruel smile blossomed upon her ghostly lips. "Your beloved_ must _be his target." In an instant, Danny was in front of her, grasping her sickeningly green neck with his gloved hands._ ((2)) _Tucker loosened his hold on Desiree at Danny's sudden brutality and backed away, leaving Desiree to hover though not on her own accord._

"Why _is he targeting Sam?" Danny's spiteful gaze caused Desiree to whimper as she winced at the rough grasp around her throat._

"_I-I know not ... I am even doubtful that he is_ truly _after your dearest" Desiree looked back towards a grimy dumpster, but still felt Danny's glare._

"_Where is he?" Danny's voice had plummeted to a fearsome low tone, rewarded by a small cry from the genie._

"_S-such information I have n-no knowledge of ..." After Desiree's confession, Danny let go of her and deposited her in the Fenton Thermos, his expression stoic._

_He didn't discover anything new to him. All he knew now was that whatever happened to Yamashiro when he was alive to make him turn had made him despise ghosts._

_But why come after Sam, a human, after so many years?_

Danny sighed and leaned against the headboard of his own bed. He had captured Desiree on Monday and it was now Friday. It had been almost an entire week since the attack and he hadn't been able to locate Yamashiro nor figure out who the samurai was really after.

Propping up his sneaker-clad feet onto his mattress, Danny looked over at the mechanical thermos beside him. Jack and Maddie were still out on a wild goose case searching for the bakemono-hunter, but at least they would have a fighting chance with the MFGF than Danny would with his own resources.

The only reason Danny was lounging in his own bed right now was because he had taken a short nap after dumping a load of low leveled ghosts into the Ghost Zone. There hadn't been any real threats ever since the attack, so catching ghosts and keeping an eye on Sam was a bit of a breeze. Though, things were pretty peaceful, Danny continued to hunt ghosts daily.

He had convinced Tucker to keep Sam company during the day as Danny would stop by every night. It was their best bet to keep Sam safe, just in case Yamashiro was _really_ after her and the hired help couldn't handle the deceased samurai. Because of the set up, Danny hunted ghost on his own, hoping to find information from those that he captured. Meanwhile, Tucker kept an eye on Sam and tried his best to dig up anything on the internet about Yamashiro. However, both were unsuccessful in getting the answers that they needed.

Stretching in place before sitting on the edge of his bed, Danny creased his brow.

_Maybe Yamashiro_ is _after me._ Though the thought seemed plausible, but it couldn't be true. If the samurai was _truly_ after Danny, then why attack Sam, his best friend? Couldn't he have gone after Jack, Maddie, or Jazz? They were his immediate family and the best choice for baiting him. Or why not Tucker? The girl-crazed teen was always getting into trouble and couldn't always get out of the situations he created.

_Since his death, Kakinouchi hasn't attacked, much less killed, a human ... Your beloved_ must _be his target._

Desiree's words reverberated in his head. If they were true, then why choose to attack Sam of all people?

The reverie was cut short as a blue vapor trailed out of Danny's mouth. Standing up, he changed into phantom form, the accustomed chill running through his body before fading away. He grabbed the Fenton Thermos and phased through the floor beneath him. As he made his way towards the Fenton Works' lab, Danny contemplated on a new thought.

Why could he sometimes hear and feel Sam?

The familiar interior of his parents' lab came into view as he phased through the kitchen floor. He had been pondering about the sudden burst of telepathy and it did nothing but confuse him. Were his powers getting stronger? Or did this have something to do on Sam's part?

There was nothing out of place in the lab, though the Ghost Portal was open. Even so, an unusual coldness filled the room. Could Sam hear or feel him, too? If so, why didn't she tell him? Danny sighed at his hypocrisy. He had first heard Sam communicate to him telepathically on the night of the attack and he still had yet to tell her of it. He would do that when he would see her later that night.

The chill in the room went back to its regular temperature as Danny went over to inspect the Ghost Portal. Shrugging, he closed the portal before flying out of the Fenton household, on the look out for the unknown specter at large.

Unknown to the ghost child, a figure in red, black, and white phased back into the lab, red eyes glowing pensively.

**000**

"Are you _sure_ you're gonna be all right, Sam?" Tucker seemed hesitant to leave Sam by herself. His mother was departing soon, but Tucker wanted to make sure Sam was safe.

"Go on. Get out of here. It's not like I'm gonna be mauled the moment you step out. Besides, wasn't it _you_ guys that said Yamashiro was after Danny, not me?" Sam's voice was a bit breathless, but a plastic mask no longer muffled it. She had been taken off he respirator earlier before visiting hours and the goth couldn't have been more glad to be breathing on her own again ((3)).

"Yeah. But that was before Desiree told us that Yamashiro hasn't attacked or killed a human ever since he died." Tucker had become protective of Sam since that Monday afternoon encounter. Sam just rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine. My parents have stationed enough skilled bodyguards to put the secret service to shame." The reassurance was there in Sam's face as she urged Tucker to go. So with a defeated sigh and the adjustment of his trademark hat, Tucker made his way over to the hallway door.

"Okay. I'll take your word for it, but you better be safe and sound when Danny comes by tonight." Tucker left with a wave, which was returned, and closed the door behind him. The moment the red beret left her line of vision, Sam leaned into her mattress and sighed.

Ever since Tuesday, Tucker would visit during the day, giving alibis to Danny's parents as to why the young Fenton couldn't come. Danny would come during the night and keep the look out for any hostile ghosts, believing that the bodyguards her parents had hired didn't stand a chance against the spectral beings. The two boys had been on the alert and they made it clear that they wanted/needed to look after her. She appreciated everyone's concern for her safety, but she hated being babied.

Suddenly, there was a knock at Sam's door before Jazz walked in.

"Hey, Sam. I see that you got rid of the breathing machine." Jazz took a seat in the cushioned chair at Sam's right.

"Yeah. My lung's strong enough to breathe on its own again. I'm supposed to start rehabilitation tomorrow." Sam tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, lips pursed.

"I'm guessing you're dreading it." Jazz couldn't help but grin at the cute crossed look Sam was sporting.

"They keep me cooped up in a bed for a week, not even to stretch my legs, and now they're _making_ me go stretch my legs while paying someone to help me do it. Even then, I'll be pushed around in a wheelchair." Sam crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the far wall. "It's nuts."

"I can't disagree with that, but you have to understand that they only did what they did because you're ... well ... injured." Jazz offered a small smile at Sam's blank look. "I mean, look." She motioned towards the younger girl's healing abdomen. "Your muscle tissue was cut through and your lung was punctured. You couldn't have done anything this past week without hurting yourself."

Sam tilted her head and bit her lip. "I guess, but couldn't they at _least_ let me out of the room a few times?"

"You're parents don't want you to get hurt at _all_. They just don't want to risk your safety." Jazz wasn't surprised at Sam's reply.

The young vegetarian narrowed her eyes. "I hate being babied."

Jazz patted Sam on the shoulder. "You'll just have to live through one more week of it."

"I'm not sure I can survive another week of being cooped up in here."

**000**

Tucker clicked on a link, quickly scanning the contents before going back to the search engine. It was getting late and he was developing a small headache while his eyesight was beginning to blur. He had been looking for new information on Yamashiro Kakinouchi for the past three hours and a half, but with no such luck. Danny had come up empty handed on his part as well, receiving no data from defeated ghosts.

The two teenage males had exchanged their lack of knowledge on Yamashiro just hours before. Danny had 'awoken' from his 'nap', which took up all afternoon, right when Tucker and Mrs. Foley returned home. Truth was, the halfa used long afternoon naps as an excuse to go ghost hunting and always managed to get back in time before Tucker and his mom came back from their daily visits with Sam. Mrs. Foley was a stay-at-home mom while Mr. Foley worked on weekdays from 8am to 7pm.

Mr. and Mrs. Foley were starting to worry over Danny; after all, he was taking continuous afternoon naps for the whole week. Eventually, Tucker and Danny convinced the concerned adults that Danny couldn't sleep at night and made up for the neglected rest in the afternoon. Not all of the white lie was untrue, though. Danny really _couldn't_ sleep at night because of his nightly surveillance over Sam and he _did_ take naps in the afternoon before heading out to bust some ghosts.

A tired sigh escaped Tucker's lips as he opened up another link. Right before Danny left to check up on Sam, Tucker had brought up the possible unneeded midnight watch over the injured goth.

_Danny raised a questioning eyebrow at Tucker. "What do you mean by that?"_

"_I mean, her parents hired like fifty guards to look after her 24/7. They're experienced and know what they're doing." The meat-lover turned on his computer from hibernation and continued his search on Yamashiro._

"_I doubt any of them fought a ghost before and when they get the chance, they probably won't be able to stop one anyway." Danny adjusted the Fenton Thermos' strap on his shoulder a little too abruptly. "That's why I have to be there ..."_

"_I have to protect Sam ..." A flash of light filled the room as Danny Phantom made himself known._

"_It isn't you fault Sam got hurt."_

_Danny floated a foot off the carpeted floor. "Yes it is."_

"_We don't know if Yamashiro was even after you." Tucker watched as Danny disappeared from sight, his presence still in the room._

"_I know that ... But it's still my fault that Sam was alone that night." In the silence that followed, the supernatural chill vanished and Tucker knew Danny was no longer there._

Tucker scrolled down the search page, passing over the links that were already lined in purple or had nothing to do with Yamashiro. It was only when the clock on the computer blared 12:49 and after he was scolded three times to go to bed that he found a link that caught his eye. Clicking on the blue text, Tucker read its contents.

_**Theories of Yamashiro Kakinouchi's Turning**_

_Yamashiro Kakinouchi is well known for his killing spree, Aka-Nami. It is also known that what started Aka-Nami was a routine monster hunting job where he snapped; turning from the respectable man that he was into a mass killer._

_Still, no one but Kakinouchi and his butchered victims know_ exactly _what happened on that day. Theories have been created as to exactly_ what _happened to turn Kakinouchi and some have been posted on this site._

The online document went on to talk about the various assumptions people had made about Yamashiro's change. A few theories talked about him being taken over by a ghost or demon. Others said that Yamashiro became corrupt or just plan mad. Some hypothesizes were sensible while others were a bit exaggerated. A few stories were even regurgitated several times, with a few alterations here and there.

Reading through the theories, Tucker cringed at some and shuddered at others. Some of the stories were quite disturbing while others just sickening. One particular hypothesis stated a gory explanation of Yamashiro's madness. Suddenly, Tucker felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and it wasn't from his current reading.

An unsettling chill settled in the room as a haunting chuckle reverberated around him.

**000**

Sam bit her lower lip and Danny rubbed the back of his neck. Both pairs of eyes were focused on something other than their companion. The room was dimly lit because of the late hour, the only real source of illumination coming from the solitary window of the room. Neither teen offered to turn on the lights, knowing that it would only gain the attention of Sam's bodyguards.

"So ..." Sam tugged at her medical bracelet. "You heard me on the night of the attack?"

Danny nodded and pulled at the edge of his wife beater, still unable to fend off the coldness of the room. "That's kinda how I found you."

The vegetarian raised a brow. "Kinda?"

"I ... I had this feeling that you needed me. It happened the night when you had your nightmare, too." Danny raised his eyes from the tilted floor to look at Sam. The mask Sam usually wore, which was hooked up to the respirator no longer marred her features, something Danny was grateful for. She even looked a lot healthier than she did the night before on his last visit. Her eyes weren't half-open anymore, allowing the soft shade of her amethyst irises to glow in the pale moonlight streaming through the window. She had also regained the milky white color in her skin, a healthy glow radiating from her now. If Danny wasn't concentrating on the telepathy topic right now, he would've commented on how pretty Sam looked regardless of her bed-mused hair.

Sam chewed on her bottom lip some more before meeting Danny's gaze. "So you can feel where I am and when I need your help?"

"I guess." He watched as she lowered her gaze to her hands, specifically towards her right wrist where her medical bracelet was.

"Can you hear my thoughts right now?"

Danny shook his head. He had tried to read her mind on previous nights, which he would never admit to Sam, but he had found out that he couldn't do so on will. "Nope. I think it only works when you're in trouble and when you _really_ want me nearby." The young man rubbed the back of his neck as a light blush crept across his cheeks, not noticing that the same pink tint had found its way onto Sam's features. In that instant, both failed to notice the blue vapor that made its way from Danny's parted lips.

So it was that the two teens lingered in the comfortable (though slightly embarrassing) moment until a thought struck Sam; something she had almost forgotten about.

"The night of the attack ..." Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing at Danny's curious face before putting her focus on her medical bracelet again. "Did you make a promise to take Yamashiro down?" Danny's expression went from curious, to blank, to pensive, and then finally to surprised in less than five seconds.

"You heard that?" He thought for a moment, trying to remember when during the night he had made the oath of vengeance. An icy intake of air brought back the memory. "But ... you were in the emergency room when I said that ... And I was thinking it in my head, too."

"I think I have an idea why we can hear each other's thoughts." She looked up at Danny, receiving an encouraging nod to continue. "Those times when I needed you and the time I heard you when I was in the emergency room, we were ..." She wasn't sure how to word what she wanted to say and Danny could tell by her pursed lips and deeply creased brow.

"You know how when someone's really mad that you can practically feel their anger or when someone's so sad that you can't help but tear up?" Danny nodded in understanding, urging her to continue.

"Well, I think that when we're overly emotional, we can read each other's thoughts." Somewhat satisfied by her terminology, Sam tilted her head at Danny to see if he agreed.

"But why is that only we," he gestured between them, "can hear _each other_?"

Sam averted her gaze to the foot of her bed as she began to think, then returned Danny's confused look with one of her own. "I don't know."

((1)) Yamashiro attacked Sam between the times of 1:30 am and 2 am on Saturday. Depending on your opinion, the attack either happened late at night or early in the morning.

((2)) I'm sorry for Danny's OOC violence, but understand that even though he used the Box Ghosts as a stress-punching bag, he's still suffering from the frustration of not knowing what's going on or what to do as well as sleep deprivation.

((3)) I have _no_ idea how long it takes for a punctured lung to heal nor how long it takes for muscle tissue to mend. So if I'm _completely_ wrong about how fast Sam should be healing ... I'm sorry.

**00000**

KUDOS TO: **big harry potter fan**, **Saiya Woods**, **StarStar16**, **KkazakK**, **soccergurl1990**, **cartooncraze375**, **JadeRabbyt**, **fariefan**, **autumngold**, **Ryo's destiny**, **cheerin4danny**,** Wolf's Angel**.

And a little personal shout-out to **cartooncraze375**: Thanks for 3 comments on your first review. And that was a great parody. I gotta give you props for making up such a unique review.

Chapter 9 will continue on where I stopped with Tucker.

_**REVIEWS ROCK! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS, &/OR RANTS WELCOME!**_

Sakura Scout


	9. Kyuu

This chapter is dedicated to **cartooncraze357** for being my 100th reviewers for UPDF:throws confetti : Cheers to you!

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, Yamashiro Kakinouchi, Aka-Nami, the 'movie' "Keeper of Souls", and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.

**00000**

_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER NINE: KYUU**_

**00000**

Tucker spun his chair around to face the source of laughter. A few feet away from him was an Asian man in his mid-twenties, adorned in red, white, and black feudal Japan attire. But the most interesting fact was that this person was transparent and floating a good six inches off the ground, a dark glow encasing him.

Sam's description of Yamashiro sprang to mind.

"The stories they create are quite amusing, but so far from the truth." Yamashiro took a step closer to Tucker, allowing the teen to snap out of his shock. Tucker made a mad dash for the Fenton Ghost Gloves by the window closest to him. Just as his fingertips brushed the metal, something thin and cold rested on the sensitive skin of Tucker's neck.

"Do not be alarmed. I did not come here to kill you." The blade nipped African-American's skin and stained the steel with a small amount of garnet liquid. "Only to make myself known"

Tucker winced at the sharp pain but remained motionless, silently cursing himself for leaving the Fenton Ghost Gloves so far away from his reach. "Proving that you're still in town can't be the only reason you're here." The blade withdrew from Tucker's flesh wound and for the first time, he was able to examine the weapon, even if it was only for a second. It was a long nihonto of about three or four feet, the Japanese steel sharpened and gleaming in the moonlight. This was definitely not the rusted old dagger that had inflicted injury upon Sam.

"You are more perceptive than they say." Yamashiro glided across the carpeted floor and wiped Tucker's blood on his red sleeve, allowing Tucker to stand straight and face him.

Wiping his blood off with his own sleeve, Tucker became sickened with the prospect that the red coating the samurai's clothes was really the bloodstains of his victims. "Well, you're just as sick at they say."

A secretive smile spread across Yamashiro's face. "They still fail to decipher _why_ I am 'sick'."

"Of course they haven't! You've burned all the evidence and killed all the witnesses, even the little kids. All of them sliced-n-diced ... You didn't leave _anything_. Think of how _their_ families felt when they found out what happened to them! How would _you_ feel if everything you knew was destroyed? If _your_ loved ones and everyone in their town was cut into mincemeat? That's just plain sick and wrong! Just killing all those people in cold blood ..." For an instant he had forgotten whom he was speaking with, letting the topic of senseless killing overcome him and his mouth. The moment his mouth stopped to function, Tucker came to stand still in the short silence that followed.

The young techie thought of the possibilities of his fate. He expected Yamashiro to come at him with his recently cleaned sword, and slicing him into nice little bite-sized pieces. There was also the possibility of Yamashiro unsheathing the second sword at his side and chopping off Tucker's head in a scissor-like motion. Or perhaps the samurai would just wound him as badly as Sam, if not slightly worse. But never would Tucker have guessed that the samurai would emit empty laughter and a hallow smile with lingering traces of sadness.

"Indeed and all for the purpose of keeping them silent." The laughter died but the haunting smile remained, making Tucker shudder.

Trying to gather his bearings (and failing more than he would like to admit), Tucker shifted his weight to his left foot and crossed his arms over his chest. "So what do you want?"

"I have taken noticed that the young ghost hunter has been keeping a close vigil of the injured girl, correct?" A wistful expression traced with his seemingly common sadness graced his features.

"What's it to you?" Tucker wondered why Yamashiro would seem so nostalgic while mentioning Danny and Sam. However, the thought was quickly dismissed as the once respected warrior spoke again.

"I wish for you to tell him that he has no need to keep her under heavy guard." He spoke firmly with an undertone of something else that Tucker couldn't place.

"Why's that?" Tucker didn't like the elusiveness reflected in Yamashiro's burning crimson eyes.

"I only intend to finish my business when she is recovered." The melancholy expression became more apparent as he paused. "I want her to be able to run if the option is left open."

"Why?" Tucker narrowed his eyes at the deceased samurai, _seriously_ disliking how the man was talking.

"Why not?" The reply came nonchalantly, as if the explanation was as clear as day, which it was not. And that only helped to grate on Tucker's nerves.

"Desiree said that you haven't killed a human ever since you died."

Yamashiro offered Tucker a ghost of a smile laced with actual amusement, even if by a fraction. "She has very reliable sources. What she has told you is true; I have not harmed nor killed a living human being since my death."

"So why now? Why Sam?" Tucker watched as Yamashiro sheathed his sword, meeting Tucker's gaze.

"Do I need a reason?" Yamashiro offered a stoic look, completely lacking in emotion. Still, an air of depression lingered around the dark aura surrounding the apparition.

"Of _course_ you need a reason! You can't decide to kill somebody just because you were in the mood! THAT'S JUST WRONG!" Tucker took a deep breath while glaring at Yamashiro.

The samurai maintained his poker face. "I never said that I attacked the girl because I 'was in the mood.'"

For a good minute or so, Tucker's mouth was ajar, gaping at the deceased man. "Then ... why?"

"I have my reasons." Something akin to determination flashed in the glowing red eyes.

Readjusting his glasses, Tucker raised a brow. "And _what_, pray tell, would those be?"

The saddened smile reappeared upon Yamashiro's face as his being started to fade into the shadows of the room.

Tucker stepped a few feet closer to the specter. "Hey!"

"Make sure you tell him of what have I said." With that, Yamashiro vanished from Tucker's view, but not without giving the teen a sincere look of reassurance.

**000**

The door clicked open and the lights flickered on. A bald middle-aged African-American man in a black suit stood in the doorway, a bushy eyebrow quirked upwards. He took a quick glance around the room before his eyes settled on the person stationed on the sole bed.

"Miss Manson, I heard voices coming from your room." His deep and accented voice (obviously acquired from the Bronx) was monotone and serious to a fault.

Sam shook her head, veiling her eyes with indifference. "I was just talking to the air; trying to entertain my restless, lonely self. Nothing out of the ordinary."

The man nodded curtly and turned the lights back off. "Very well. I advise that you sleep soon, though." With that, he closed the door behind him, his footfalls echoing in the hall as he walked away.

"Man. That was close." Danny reappeared in the chair to Sam's left, a look of relief on his face.

"See? This is why you don't need to come here every night. I have _plenty_ of bodyguards; I don't need another one." Sam leaned back into her angled mattress and watched as Danny crossed his arms over his chest.

"Can any of your bodyguards grab a ghost with his bare hands and send them straight into the Ghost Zone?"

"No, but none of them brag about their skills, either." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Come on, Danny. This is the third time that someone has almost caught you in here."

Danny sighed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, making sure that he wasn't expelling too much air to freeze. "I know that, but I can't leave you here by yourself with Kakinouchi still out there."

"I'm not completely defenseless. You, of all people, should know that." Sam gave Danny a stern look, accusing him of calling her weak.

He raised both hands up defensively. "Of course I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, but you can't blame a guy for worrying about his best friend."

Her gaze wavered after a moment longer, her expression softening. "It's not like you'll be abandoning me."

"We can't risk it, especially since Desiree said--"

"That I'm the first human to be attacked by Yamashiro." She sighed. "I know that you're worried and I appreciate your concern, but I don't need to be protected like some porcelain doll."

"Sam, I know that you hate it, but it's for your own safety." He stopped and lowered his eyes, letting out a ragged breath, completely forgetting about his ghost sense. "I don't wanna see you like that." His eyes glazed over at the thought, memories of what took place a week ago running through his mind. "I won't let him hurt you. Not again."

"Danny ..." Sam noticed that he would brood over the fact that he had left her alone that night, putting the blame on himself. He did this every now and then when he visited her. An air of rage would surround him, his hatred directed at himself and Yamashiro, her attacker.

_I'll make him pay ..._

At first, she dismissed the whisper as just that, a whisper. She heard him mutter about such things, but paid them no real attention.

_I'll make him pay for hurting her ..._

He wasn't talking to her. His voice was louder and it echoed around her. Her eyes widened with the revelation of telepathy between the two of them.

She was hearing his thoughts.

"Danny ..." He wasn't responding to her and that scared Sam. If he was so angry as to project his thoughts, then she was afraid he would end up doing something stupid. Without hesitating, Sam reached out and took Danny's hand in her own. "I know you'll make him pay, but don't loose control of your anger."

Danny gapped in confusion, but shut his mouth again when he realized what must have happened. He shook his head and as he cleared his thoughts, so did some of the tension in the room. "Sorry." The fifteen-year-old lowered his head again, this time in shame.

"It's all right. Just don't let it go too far, you might regret it." Sam silently squeezed Danny's hand, rewarded with the closing of sleep deprived eyes. Danny took in a shaky breath and released it just as unsteadily, too tired to neither smooth out the gesture nor hide the blue vapor.

"I know." He looked up at Sam once more, but found that she had her gaze focused on the face clock on her right.

2:00 am

"I found you around this time ..."

Sam nodded. "Exactly a week ago ..."

**00000**

TIME FOR THE SHOUT-OUTS! Thank you: **big harry potter fan**, **StarStar16**, **cheerin4danny**, **KkazakK**, **Ryo's destiny**, **Paradise Raver**, **soccergurl1990**, **autumngold**, **JadeRabbyt**, **Wiggle Lizard**, **Darkfire22**, **Crystal-One**, **dogdemon8343**, **fariefan**, **cartooncraze357**, **n5d25d90**, **X phantom**! I **seriously** doubt I would be able to keep writing this without you people supporting me!

NEXT CHAPTER: Let's break away from the ambiguity of Yamashiro for at least **one** chapter ... If I can ...

_**REVIEWS ARE THE ULTIMATE HIGH FOR ALL AUTHORS! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, COMMENTS, QUESTIONS, CONCERNS &/OR RANTS WELCOME!**_

Sakura Scout


	10. Juu

I'M SORRY!! I'M REALLY, REALLY, REALLY SORRY!! I never meant to take this long to update. Please don't kill me.

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, Yamashiro Kakinouchi, Aka-Nami, the 'movie' "Keeper of Souls", the 'game' "Monster Mansion III", and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom, Crash Nebula, or other stuff that belong to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and their respective owners.

**00000**

_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER TEN: JUU**_

**00000**

_Danny looked away from the clock and focused back on Sam, who sat motionlessly. Images of what happened to her the week before began accumulating in his mind. "I'm not going to leave you."_

"_It's all right. Sooner or later you'll have to anyway." Her tone was flat, gaze still transfixed on some point beyond the softly ticking clock._

"_At least not until you fall asleep." He rubbed her back as she finally blinked and lowered narrowed amethyst eyes to her medical bracelet in annoyance._

"_I'm not asking you to stay. Besides, I'm not sure I'll be able to get_ any _rest tonight."_

_Danny allowed a small smile to spread across his face. "But I_ want _ to stay … And if it's going to take as long as you say, I guess I better get comfortable, huh?"_

_Sam looked up at Danny and returned his smile with one of sheer amusement. "That chair's not gonna be much help."_

_Nibbling on his bottom lip, Danny thought over the situation before his smile slowly returned, blossoming into a cheesy grin. "You mind scooting over?"_

_The world spun around Danny when Sam hit him upside the head with a pillow as hard as she could muster at the moment._

Thus it came to be that the halfa was left in his uncomfortably cushioned chair. And as he had promised, he stayed with the young goth until she was fast asleep, which was somewhere around 5 AM.

He had gotten back to the Foley's residence soon afterwards, finding Tucker sleeping like a log in his bed. Danny then changed back into his human form out of fatigue and collapsed onto his sleeping bag.

Now, after three short hours of sleep, he blinked his tired eyes to glare at his meat loving friend. He _definitely_ did not like the news he was hearing upon his awakening. "I swear, Tuck, if this is some twisted joke--"

"No way, man!" Tucker held up his hands in defense. "I'd never kid about something _this_ serious, you know that."

Danny's gaze did not waver. "The last time you said that was when we were both twelve and it was Halloween. Do you _honestly_ think I'd trust you with that line after Sam and Jazz had enough dirt to blackmail me for a year?" His eyes narrowed as he reminisced.

Tucker backed away from his blood-shot-eyed friend. "Sorry! Jeez … Someone's in a bad mood."

"You have to be if you had three hours of sleep, only to wake up to hear that the ghost that almost killed your best friend probably isn't gonna kill her until _after_ she's better, which is _exactly_ what some deranged sadistic sicko would do. And at the same time, _still_ not know if that same ghost is trustworthy." Danny huffed, adrenaline obviously keeping him awake at the moment.

If someone looked, they could see Tucker's Adams apple bob up and down in fear at Danny's outburst. "Okay, okay. Chill. I'm sorry. But seriously, I'm not kidding. Besides, this is just what you need. I mean, staying out for God-_knows_**-**how-many hours can't be good for your health."

The blue-eyed teen shifted his weight. "I know ... but I can't just kick back and relax while Sam's still in danger and now that Kakinouchi showed himself to you--"

"He made it pretty clear that he's all for spilling _Sam's_ blood, _not_ mine. I know where you're coming from, Danny." Tucker readjusted his glasses and lowered his head a bit more to hide the coagulating blood on his neck. "Sam's _my_ best friend, too. And as much as I want to protect her and no matter _how_ much I dislike Yamashiro, I trust him."

Danny crossed his arms over his chest. "That makes one of us."

"I know it might sound weird that _I'm_ the one saying to lay off when I was the first one to freak over Yamashiro, but … I don't think he'd lie. Not about _this_ … You'd be agreeing with me if you had seen the look on--"

"I couldn't care less about his look!" He looked down and glared at his up-turned palms, noting how unblemished they were. He briefly wondered if Sam's injuries would scar her fair skin. "I'll protect her. I won't let _anyone_ or _anything_ hurt her again."

Tucker frowned then regarded his friend bemusedly, a small smile gracing his features. "The overprotective type boyfriend, I see."

"I'm _not_ her boyfriend." The response was automatic, as was the blush.

A broad smile appeared on the techno-geek. "Yet."

The blush on Danny's face darkened, but before he could retort, Tucker was talking once more. "So what do you wanna do today?"

Danny blinked and raised a bushy eyebrow out of confusion. "What?"

"Sam's doing rehab today. No visitors 'till three. Besides, my mom and dad can't give us rides anymore since mom's car is in the shop."

Danny's brow creased. "How long?"

"At least a week. And don't forget that I start working at Nasty Burger on Monday."

Danny shrugged. He'd just have to patrol the hospital for the majority of the day since Tucker obviously couldn't keep an eye on Sam. "Well, I guess I'll just--"

"NUH-UH!! You're not kickin' _any_ ghost booty today, pal. You sacrifice _enough_ of your time as it is." Tucker grabbed Danny at the shoulders. "Listen to me: You _cannot_ protect Sam 24/7. If you did, you'd _permanently_ be in ghost mode and I _don't_ think Sam would like that."

"But I just can't--"

"Will you give it a rest for one _measly_ minute?! God! That's it! I can't take this anymore! _You_ are coming with _me_ to the arcade today."

Danny opened his mouth, but the glare Tucker was shooting at him said "keep your trap closed or pay the consequences." He knew from experience that when a Foley used that look, you _better_ keep quiet.

"B-but _Tucker_, Sam needs m--"

"Sam doesn't need you to _stalk_ her; she has _bodyguards_ for that."

"But the ghosts--"

"Let your _parents_ deal with them. Your parents, specifically your mom, are more than capable in handling this kind of stuff." The African-American released Danny from his grip. "Don't worry."

Danny sighed. "I don't know, Tuck. I just don't feel ... _right_ about taking a break from all that."

"That's only because you've gone too long without a real break from the whole Danny Phantom lifestyle."

Tightly shutting his eyes and tilting his head back, the young halfa let out a ragged breath. "I really need a vacation," he cracked one eye open to glance at his companion, "don't I?"

Tucker rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Ya think?"

Danny fell back onto his sleeping bag. "Give me another couple hours of sleep and we'll take the mopeds to the mall."

**000**

Goosebumps spread over Sam's exposed skin as she exhaled. She was currently sitting on a padded bench in a well sized weight room doing her breathing exercises. By her side was a young female nurse, Amy, instructing her when to breathe in deeply and exhale slowly. Stationed in the room where five guards, one of which was standing not too far from the nurse. The other guards that the Mansons had hired were stationed in the outside corridors and around the hospital itself.

Sam shivered as she exhaled on command again, the room's chill crawling upon her skin and affecting her performance. "Can we turn up the heat just a little?"

Amy seemed unfazed by the cold, but still motioned to a guard that was standing by the thermostat, who seemed quite snug with the room's wintriness. The temperature rose, but there was still an unsettling cold in the room and it wasn't the type she had grown used to during her stay in the hospital. It washed over her whole being and burrowed deep into her bones, sending frightening shivers down her spine. She squirmed on the red vinyl of the bench. This was the same feeling she got when a –

Sam sucked in a sharp, checking if the guards had taken notice of the abnormality of the temperature. By their usual stiff posture, it was obvious they hadn't. Amethyst eyes quickly examined the room, searching for something, anything that could be the cause of the unsettling cold.

"Miss Manson?"

Sam turned her head to the female nurse, a look of worry marring the young brunette's face, much like an expression Sam had often seen on almost everyone within the past week, though much more akin to Danny's. Why was everyone babying her? "Amy, we went over this a week ago. No formalities, please. It's just Sam."

Amy Sprague was a gentle soul that had been tending to Sam in the morning and afternoons for the duration of Sam's stay at the hospital. The young nurse had not only been highly recommended by the hospital staff, but had been a familiar face the Mansons were very willing to trust. For Sam, much to her chagrin, it was just like old times when Amy had babysat her on weekends when the mansion staff had their days off and Grandma Ida Manson was out and about the town.

She definitely did not like being treated like a five-year-old who needed constant supervision.

At least Amy didn't bug her in the evenings, cordially trying to get her to bed before 8 PM.

The older girl nodded, her brow still creased with concern. "Yes, yes. I am dreadfully sorry, Miss-- ano ... I mean Sam." She said Sam's name slowly, letting it roll off her tongue as if testing the feel of its formations upon her lips. "I have noticed that you seem ..." she rubbed the back of her own neck, cinnamon eyes glowing a faint red in the florescent lighting, "distracted."

Sam smiled. At lease _someone_ was noticing. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I kinda zoned out."

Amy shook her head, soft russet wisps falling from their tight French twist with the action. "It is quite alright. I know how tedious and boring these sessions can be, so your behavior is more than understandable. If you would like, we could end today's exercises and let you return to your room."

"Is that really okay?"

"Of course. We can always continue where we left off." A smile brightened the nurse's face by a fraction, a shadow of sadness lingering in her eyes. The look was different from Amy's usual passive cheery personality but Sam only dismissed it for the dull afternoon.

Offering Amy a small smile, Sam jumped off the high padded bench but nearly had her neglected legs give out from under the weight of her own body. The bodyguard that had been standing not too far off made a start to catch his employer's daughter, but was beaten to it by a surprisingly fast acting Amy. A sudden rush of coldness surrounded Sam the moment the brunette touched her only to be replaced with a dull warmth.

"Sam, you should not be so hasty to use your legs. They may not be injured, but they have been in much disuse for the past week." Something was off with the way Amy spoke, something Sam hadn't noticed before with her earlier paranoia. Amy's speech was more formal and assertive than from what Sam remembered; warm familiarity in a soft and passive tone was more of the older girl's nature. Amethyst regarded the other female suspiciously, but lowered their guard again as a bodyguard came by with a wheelchair.

"Thanks, Amy. I guess this means that our next session will be longer, huh?" Sam turned to face the female nurse, but was not greeted by Amy's trademark gentle smile or her warm hazel eyes. Instead, the scarlet that had been faintly gleaming around Amy's irises encased them in a deep, sad crimson hue. The heiress could no longer accept the excuse of the tiresome rehab session to overlook the glowing red eyes 'Amy Sprague' sent her way.

The freezing chill that had been bothering Sam all afternoon long came back full force, practically burning where Amy's hand was placed on her shoulder.

"I assure you it will not be too straining," a knowing glint appeared in those now hauntingly familiar eyes, "after all, this _is_ a place of healing." 'Amy' stepped back to give room to the bodyguard steering the wheelchair so he could maneuver the chair out of the room, but the chill still flowed through Sam.

"Though if I were you, I would be more concerned on how I fair _outside_ of this safe haven."

'Amy's' eyes rolled to the back of her head before she convulsed and fell to the floor. However, before anyone could come to the fallen girl's aid, a combination of a fire alarm, a siren, and the cocking of numerous anti-ghost assault riffles sounded.

Hovering above Amy's prone form and staring straight into Sam's wide eyes was Yamashiro Kakinouchi.

**000**

A loud and long eerie creak sounded as the rotting oak doors opened on their rusty hinges. The large forgotten dinning room was dim and dank, the only light in the room funneling in small shafts between the planks boarding the few large windows. Ragged deep red curtains rustled in the low whistling winds and cast ghastly shadows through the gloominess of the room. Yellow wallpaper, once white, peeled from the molding walls, starting at the leaky ceiling and ending at the creaking red wood floorboards. A gigantic fireplace stood on the far side of the room, its brick foundation crumbling and its chimney caved in. The mantle itself, grand and majestic once upon a time, was in shambles with the fallen chimney pooling out from its gorged out wall.

Dozens of wooden chairs with haggard and misused crushed red velvet cushions were strewn about, most in pieces with feather stuffing and splinters littering the floor. The only thing in the abandoned regal dinning hall left in tack and unscathed seemed to be the long umber dinning table, a thick coat of dust upon its would-be polished marble surface. Two tarnished chandeliers swayed dangerously from the decaying carved ceiling above, the cobwebs seeming to be the only things keeping them from crashing into the dinning table below.

The room seemed to be screaming 'undead' as the wind kicked up and howled through the boarded windows.

Tucker licked his lips and readied his gun, paying careful attention to the shadows of the aged chamber. His eyes stung from looking at this place for too long, but he feared what would happen to him if he were to blink his eyes for even a split-second. A flash of black zoomed across the room and Tucker emptied a full clip of bullets. Dust filled the room in a thick cloud and when it settled, there were bullet holes in the grand marble dinning table and aged floor, nothing else. Not wasting another moment, Tucker reloaded while shifting his gaze from side to side suspiciously.

"Keep your eyes open, Danny, this guy's fast." Tucker reluctantly turned to his side to face his best friend, however, he did not see the dark haired youth being as attentive as he had hoped. If anything, Danny had retreated to the inner workings of his mind.

"DANNY!"

As if regaining the ability to hear, the addressed teen snapped out of his daydreaming and turned to Tucker. "Huh?"

Tucker rolled his eyes and pointed at the dining room before them. "For crying out loud, man; you're suppose to be paying attention. You can't just zone out whenever you please! If you keep spacing out like that, we're _both_ gonna--"

A loud, wailing shriek was heard, forcing Tucker to look forward once more. Two dripping yellow fangs were all that Tucker saw before the image of the dinning room was covered with copper red blood and everything faded into black.

'GAME OVER' was scrawled in red over the black background of the screen.

Tucker jammed his plastic red gun controller into the metal holster in front of him and glared at the "Monster Mansion III" ((1)) banner of the game he and Danny had just lost to. Readjusting his glasses, Tucker turned his glare on Danny. "DUDE!! We didn't even get to the fifth boss and we _died_!" He lifted up two open palms with all ten digits extended. "_TEN_ TIMES!! How lame is that?!"

"Hey!" Danny lifted a hand in defense while putting his own plastic blue gun away. "Don't blame _me_ about loosing so early in the game and dying so many times. Besides, _I'm_ not the one announcing to the _whole world_ that we died _ten times_ before getting to the _fifth_ boss in a _fifteen_-stage game."

Tucker lowered his hands, stuffing them in his pockets and thinking over Danny's words. "That may be true but that doesn't change the fact that you were in Lala Land when I needed you. And don't make me bring up those other seventeen games that we played six times each." ((2))

"Alright already. I plead guilty." Danny sent a sheepish grin at Tucker, lapsing into a light frown. "But this isn't ghost hunting, which I _should_ be doing right now."

Tucker rolled his eyes and searched his pockets for some more quarters. "C'mon, man ... Let's not get into _this_ again." He grabbed Danny and dragged him to the nearest Crash Nebula © game, pushing him into the controls and dropping in a quarter. "This is your _downtime_. No ghost hunting for the day, remember?"

"I don't know, Tuck." A wisp of blue smoke trailed from Danny's parted lips as the game's intro started up. "This doesn't seem--doesn't _feel_ right. I mean, there's no one else besides my parents tracking down ghosts in this town." ((3))

"I said it before: Your parents can handle it." Tucker's eye twitched when the pixilated Crash Nebula was blown up by a harmless meteor, proving that Danny wasn't paying attention to the game at all. "You have to _relax_, Danny. You _can't_ let this Yamashiro business get to you."

Danny stared at the controls in his hands, the plastic smooth and warming up under his calloused touch. His mind didn't register the explosions taking place on screen in front of him or 'GAME OVER' flashing in bright yellow and red text.

A shiver ran down Danny's spine when he saw a light blue ribbon rise into the air before him.

"What time is it?"

Tucker sighed and glanced at his wristwatch. "A quarter past three. Wh--" The techie stopped himself and sighed again. "Sam's _fine_."

"We can make good time if we take the scooters. Sam should be done with her rehab for awhile when we get there." Obviously, the blue-eyed boy wasn't paying attention to Tucker.

"Danny!" Tucker huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Shut up already! I know you wanna play 'Mr. Hero' _really_ badly, but Sam doesn't need a hero!"

That got Danny's attention.

Seeing that the damage was already done, Tucker continued. "I mean ... at least not right now."

Danny gave Tucker a blank stare. "Tuck, you're not making sense."

Tucker's fingers brushed against his PDA in his right pocket. "With everything we know ..."

Jade-green eyes lowered themselves as dark fingertips traced cool, sleek metal. "With everything we _don't_ know, you can't--_we_ can't really protect her."

A perplexed expression crossed Danny's face. He was the superhero, he _had_ to be able to protect Sam. He was the one with the powers, the enemies, all the reasons and resources.

Yet, he had failed to protect Sam from what had started this whole mess.

The realization was slowly overcoming the young halfa, but he tried desperately to hang onto the threads of denial within his grasp. There had to be some shred of hope that there was something he could do, _anything_ he was capable of to ensure Sam's safety.

Nothing came to mind.

He didn't want to admit it, he'd admit to anything other than that he was helpless to protect his loved ones, Sam most of all.

Danny sighed in defeat. Neither he or Tucker (or anyone for that matter) could protect Sam like they would like to with the limited amount of information they had in opposition to Kakinouchi. And if the samurai stayed true to his word, the only thing that would be haunting Sam for the rest of her hospital stay would be something Danny had to face almost every day of his young life.

Fear.

It was the most intangible of all enemies and that thought sent chills throughout the troubled youth's body.

"Then what should we do?"

Gripping his favorite piece of machinery, Tucker lifted his eyes to meet Danny's. "The only thing _anyone_ can do in a situation like this."

Danny averted his gaze from Tucker, staring back at the Crash Nebula© game he just lost to. "I don't want to pretend it didn't happen."

Tucker sighed and ran a thumb over the buttons of his PDA. "Just because you don't bring it up--"

"I can't." He shook his head, his long bangs falling into his eyes and obscuring his sight. "At least, I don't think I can."

"We can't keep Sam thinking about this forever. It's tough for her as it is." The techie's voice was strained and tired, irritability evident.

Danny turned his back from Tucker, facing towards the arcade's entrance. "I just don't want to see Sam hurt again."

There was a long pause as he let his shoulders drop. "I … I don't know what to do anymore."

**000**

The mind-numbing ghost alarm was still ringing when an elderly woman in a motorized cart reached Sam's hospital room. Despite the fluorescent lights gleaming off of her wire-rimmed glasses, one could still clearly see the determination and annoyance aimed at the closest black-clad man in front of her.

"Now you listen here," her voice calm with a mother's commanding tone, "That's my granddaughter in that there room and I am _going_ to see her."

The glare on the aged woman's glasses flashed as she directed her compact vehicle forward menacingly. "And I would _love_ to see you try and stop me from doing so."

One of the addressed men took a step closer to the old lady. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but we're only trying to keep her safe from--" The impact the woman's purse made with the guard's head cut his sentence short and had enough power in it to knock him out cold.

Let's just say that anyone who happened by at the moment would raise their brow in suspicion at the group of suited men, all wide-eyed with their jaws resting on the titled floor.

Straightening her glasses, the same purse-wielding grandmother stared down the rest of the men. "I am _more_ than capable in protecting my own granddaughter from ghosts or whatever else you were hired to keep away. So if you like having the ability to walk, you better move those steel buns of yours."

It was as if the Red Sea had parted before Moses by God's decree, but with men in black and a woman known as Ida Manson instead.

A warm current filtered through the old woman's body as she passed through the doorframe, the usual unearthly chill of the hospital gone, leaving only the faint breeze of the air conditioning. It was only when the door closed behind her with a soft 'click' that Ida noticed that the walls, ceiling and floor of the room were encased in an electric green hue.

Upon the entrance of her new companion, Sam settled her front wheels back onto the ground from a wheelie and rolled over to her elder. "Hi, grandma. You didn't beat anyone up to get in here, did you?"

Round wired glasses flashed as Ida waved a hand dismissively. "Let's not bother with such trivial things. I wanted you to know that Amy is still out cold, but there doesn't seem to be any real damage. She should be up and about come this evening; not so sure she'll be up to do any nursing business for a day or so, though."

"So they're gonna send her home when she wakes?"

"Of course, dearie, I doubt Amy would want to stay for the rest of the day after the possession act that Kakinouchi fellow pulled off. Now then," the older woman took another glance at her surroundings, "Let's talk about your green room."

Sam rolled her eyes, but humored the old lady. "The Fentons installed a ghost shield to fit the perimeter of my room, but it works when a ghost on the hit list ((4)) is detected. I don't know all the details, but it has something to do with the fact that I'm in a hospital and there being 'countless of unseen ghosts wandering these halls.'" Sam had lowered her voice an octave, imitating Jack as best as she could.

"Ah … I'm sure it's only for your safety, sweetie." The older woman wagged a finger when she saw the crossed look on her granddaughter's face. "Can't have the shield too big or you run the risk of being trapping a ghost in the shield _with_ you."

"Well …" Sam sighed, folding her arms over her chest, complete with a pout on her naturally pink tinted lips. "I'm just kind of sick and tired of people fussing over me. This is even worse than being sick."

Ida chuckled lightly at the comment. "At least there isn't a medical team barging into your room every ten minutes."

A smile graced Sam's features. "Yeah … I guess." The frown returned. "I still don't like being cooped up in a hospital all day, though."

"No kidding. I'd have killed myself by now, that's for sure." Her aged face scrunched into a grimace. "I just don't know how you do it, hon."

Sam shrugged. "I guess I get by with all the visits I get from the people that matter."

"That reminds me," Ida set her face in a firm disposition, "why hasn't Danny visited you lately? The last time I checked, he last came to see you almost a week ago."

"He's been having trouble sleeping at night, so he makes up for it in the afternoon. I'm not going to bust his chops to comes see me when he's sleep deprived, especially if that's during visiting hours." It wasn't a complete lie, though it wasn't the complete truth either. Danny was _always_ sleep deprived, especially since he was suffering from a severe case of Hero-Complex. The boy seriously needed to lay off the whole 'with great power comes great responsibility' concept.

"He has, has he?" A mischievous grin appeared on the older woman's face. "Could it be that the young man's been sneaking out to see a certain hospitalized goth, hmm?"

"Grandma!" Sam's face turned a bright red.

"Don't deny it. I've heard reports of you 'talking to yourself' late at night. Just 'cause I'm old doesn't mean I can't put two and two together." The smile remained, but the light faded from Ida's eyes. "Though I think it would be smarter, not to mention safer, if he came by during _visiting_ hours instead of the middle of the night, no matter _how_ sweet the sentiment."

Sam sighed. "That's what I keep telling him, but he's got this whole Hero-Complex going on. He thinks that I should be put under lock and key, always under heavy surveillance, if not by him, Tucker or Jazz."

Ida gave out a low whistle. "Quite the overprotective Romeo you got there, Boobalah ((5))."

"Danny's not my Romeo," the raven haired girl blushed, "he's just a very concerned friend."

"With _him_ being the one to find you bleeding to death on a sidewalk, could you blame him?"

"I …" Sam lowered her eyes and fiddled with her medical bracelet. "No. I guess not."

Ida pulled her granddaughter into a loose half-hug. "He's a keeper, that's for sure. Though I gotta wonder what in the world he was doing out so late at night."

"I told you, we were hanging out in the park by the old gazebo, then we split up and I got attacked," Sam spoke with practiced familiarity.

"Then why would you split up in opposite directions when the exit closest to both of your houses was the same way?"

The younger woman led her eyes downcast. "I … I didn't feel like going home and Danny … He left a little earlier to … play hero."

The older Manson pulled away from Sam to hold her at arm's length, a motherly sadness in her expression. "It looks like he has to work on his timing."

Sam removed herself from her grandmother's hold, anger sparking in her gaze. "Leave him alone! Danny can't protect me from everything!

"He might not be able to protect me next time either …" Her voice softened as the words began to take weight.

… _if I were you, I would be more concerned on how I fair_ outside _of this safe haven …_

Sam's grip tightened on the end of her armrest.

"What's this now?" Ida leaned forwards, eyes trained on her granddaughter. "Where's the usual darkly optimistic granddaughter of mine, hmm?"

Sam looked away with sullen eyes. "She got slashed in the gut and had her left lung punctured."

"Yes, that's true, but that's not where she is." Wrinkles deepened with resolution. "I think she's hiding in this little place I call insecurity."

Amethyst eyes whipped back to face the elder. "She is _not_ insecure!"

An aged eyebrow raised itself over inquisitive blue eyes. "Then why in the world does she doubt her best friend?"

"She does _not_ doubt her best friend!" Smooth, lithe hands whitened their knuckles as they clutched the black plastic armrests of their wheelchair.

"Then why is she being all angsty and saying that he won't be able to save her?"

"She … I …" Thin chapped lips began to move, but the words they were trying to form were lost somewhere along the way from her mind to her mouth.

A wrinkled, weathered and warm hand found its way to Sam's shoulder. "It's alright to be afraid."

She tried to focus on the older woman through her blurred vision. "But I don't want to be."

It wasn't until she felt the tears spilling over her flushed cheeks that she realized she was trembling.

**000**

"Danny, will you slow down?" Tucker tried to catch up to his speeding friend, but the African-American was only rewarded for his efforts by Danny's increased speed and a sudden chill that had him shivering.

Being around Danny for so long, Tucker had gotten used to the unearthly temperature his friend seemed to generate from time to time, but those cold spells were nothing compared to the frosty summer afternoon he was experiencing. It made the young man all the more concerned about Danny, and he had already been wrought with worry at the arcade to begin with.

_Danny stood with shoulders slumped down, a look of defeat shadowing his features. Then all at once, he took a step back while trembling and breathing heavily, his chest heaving with sky blue eyes wide and glassy._((6))

_Tucker approached his friend with concern, but stopped when the halfa froze and started to frantically dart his eyes about. Picking up on Danny's behavior, the meat-lover searched the arcade for any signs of a supernatural threat. Seeing none, the techno-geek looked back to his edgy comrade only to stare back at neon green. There was something off about Danny's eyes and Tucker knew it wasn't just their eerie green glow._

_Danny wasn't looking at Tucker, in fact, he wasn't seeing at all, but grasping for a feeling with his gaze._

_The two of them stayed like that for a moment or two, Danny looking beyond his best friend and Tucker frozen in place with distress. That is until Danny blinked, his eyes focusing and burning with an intense emerald green before bolting past the arcade archway and towards the mall's exit. Tucker followed the nearly flying teen out of the mall, into the parking lot, onto their mopeds, and raced towards Amity Park General Hospital._

_All the way to the parking lot, Tucker could hear only one word, one name muttered with a mixture of panic, fear, and anger._

Ever since the two teens had exited the mall parking lot, Danny had fallen silent, eyes glowing with an unearthly sheen and a fierce expression marring his features.

Just barely missing a Nissan Ultima when making a sharp right, Tucker called out to Danny. "I'm telling you she's fine!"

A massive green cloud of ghostly creatures rocketed overhead just then, the Fenton RV racing past the two boys while in hot pursuit of the hoards of ghosts. Danny glared over his shoulder at Tucker with cerulean eyes storming darkly. Tucker faltered at his companion's look, losing momentum as Danny returned his attention back to the road and sped off into the distance.

"He gave his word!" The sound of passing cars and blaring horns were his only reply.

Kakinouchi had indeed given his word and Tucker chose not to doubt the sincerity that had been displayed within the crimson eyes of the fallen samurai. Without that shred of hope, Tucker would be lost, as lost and desperate as Danny and Lord knew how much Danny needed any amount of reassurance in their situation. The look of utter defeat on the young Fenton's face in the arcade flashed across Tucker's mind.

He had to believe in Kakinouchi for Danny's sake, for Sam's.

The waiting room for the funeral ((7)) loomed in the distance and Tucker repeated his words to the biting wind.

"He gave his word."

**000**

The Fenton RV jostled with the speed it needed to keep up with the horde of ghosts in the sky. Along the way, Jack disregarded traffic lights, traffic signs, police cars, street dividers, screaming pedestrians, and virtually every, if not all, other traffic violations of the state of Illinois.

Trying not to be ripped out of her seat by the sporadic driving of her husband, Maddie turned towards the front of the RV from her position over a work table. "Jack, honey, _please_ keep on the right side of the road and don't use the sidewalk any more than you need to. It's dangerous."

"But we'll never catch up to them if we do that, Maddie-baby." Jack said this with his face turned to his wife, not noticing the large truck that swerved out of the speeding RV's way and into a fire hydrant.

"Fine," Maddie turned back to the work table, "just don't run anyone over. And try to keep the jostling to a minimum; it's a bit difficult to work back here."

"Will do." And as the devoted (scattered-brain) husband he was, Jack tried his best to comply with Maddie's request.

With an affectionate smile, the red-headed woman looked over her work station, doing what she could to locate the ghost they had been hired by the Mansons to catch.

The MFGF lay in a mess of wires that were connection to a number of monitors, which displayed camera angles of the ghosts outside, a ghost radar, energy readings (both of the Fenton Assault Vehicle and ghosts), genetic data, schematics, and other data reels.

A large number of the ghosts Jack was currently trying to run down were matches to the ecto-plasma samples extracted from the shard that had once been lodged inside Sam's body. Even though, there was no humanoid match showing on the screen.

Maddie shifted her gaze to the playback she had retrieved from the hospital's security tapes, having demanded them before the large mass of green surrounding the hospital shot off like a bat out of Hell. According to one of guards who had been in the room when Kakinouchi revealed himself, the alarms didn't go off until after the samurai ghost made himself known.

Something was amiss and the female ghost hunter didn't like it.

The alarms she and Jack had installed in the hospital were hooked up to a modified ghost radar keyed on the ecto-plasma signatures found on the shard. If any ecto-plasma readings identical to those on the shard came within 50 yards of hospital grounds, the alarm was to go off. It should have gone off long before Kakinouchi came within a dangerous distance to Sam, but it hadn't at all.

Then another testament by a guard stationed along the hospital's perimeter came to mind. He had said that a massive wave of ghosts had come rushing towards the hospital around the same time it had been reported that Kakinouchi was inside the building. As the ghosts swirled around and through the hospital, the Fenton Duo appeared on the scene and did their best to find the ghost samurai in the midst of the ghosts circling everywhere. And when the ghosts flew from the hospital, Jack and Maddie gathered their acquired information and chased after the fleeing ghosts.

It was a trick.

Kakinouchi's ecto-plasma wasn't on the shard and he somehow knew that they (Jack & Maddie) would use it to try to track him. He had used his minions as a means of distraction, giving himself enough time to escape or even--

Maddie whipped around in her seat to face the front with such force that she swore she felt whiplash.

"JACK, GET TO THE HOSPITAL!! NOW!!"

It was a shame that they would never reach their destination conscious.

**000**

He didn't remember what he did with his moped when he reached the hospital, only that he went intangible the moment he got there. Through walls and people he went, the weight in his chest spreading a dark chill through the building. Nothing in his wake stopped him except for the very palpable force that halted his entry into Samantha Manson's hospital room. There was no second attempt or time to figure out what had stopped him before something grabbed his intangible form and pushed him to an empty hospital room.

By the time he realized he was staring into hallow crimson eyes, Danny felt a sharp pain shoot across his torso. It started from his aching left shoulder and echoed with a pulse to his right side. The hand he instinctively placed to the lower end of the wound came in contact with exposed flesh and a sticky warm liquid.

"If you had the audacity to come here," a voice said, "you should have at least made an effort to come prepared."

Danny didn't need to hear the sneer in that voice to realize his mistake nor take a second later to try and remedy his predicament.

A dull ache instead of the expected chill of transforming flooded the halfa's being and as he tensed his muscles, he could feel the unrelenting wall behind him and the blade digging into his flesh.

He couldn't change into Danny Phantom.

Panic began to set into his system until Danny looked at his attacker and his blood ran cold.

Yamashiro Kakinouchi had him pinned against a wall with a sword cutting diagonally across his chest and the halfa could feel the weight of the blade compressing his lungs.

Danny curled the hand that had been checking his bleeding side and made a solid impact on the ghost in front of him, smearing red upon the green-colored cheek. This, however, did nothing to improve his situation as the blade at his chest dug deeper.

Kakinouchi cracked his neck and fixed his crimson eyes upon Danny's. "You act before thinking," red eyes flickered with a reminiscent light, "instinct can only get you so far without practiced knowledge."

((1)) This game is a spoof of "House of the Dead" 'cause I really wanted to do a dinning room battle scene, but I can't remember whether or not "House of the Dead" has one.

((2)) Trust me. It can happen. It costs quite a bit of money, too. 102+ plays. That's like 25.50+ worth. O.o Is that how much we blew off at the arcade that one day at the Boardwalk?

((3)) Just a friendly reminder that this fic deviates from the storyline after "My Brother's Keeper" and that there is no "Valerie the Ghost Slayer"! Sorry folks, but that's the way things are.

((4)) Sam's way of saying "all the ghosts that have their ectoplasmic signatures on that shard that was stuck in my body."

((5)) I have no idea if this how really spell it. Someone please tell how to spell it correctly.

((6)) Danny's little 'episode' occurred not when Sam was talking to her grandma, but when Kakinouchi-san made his surprise appearance in the weight training room. Sorry if there was any confusion on that part.

((7)) This is a reference to J.M. Coetzee's novel Age of Iron, found on page 77.

**00000**

The cliffhanger was unavoidable. I didn't want to stop there, but I couldn't think of how I could end the chapter without it. Sorry.

I am also not happy with this chapter. I don't like how it came out; well … at least some scenes. I'll have to revisit this chapter and do some more editing.

Okay. It's official. I'm sick and tired of writing weepy, defenseless Sam. Anyone else want tough, sarcastic Sam back? a chorus of people scream "Hell yeah!" Great. Hopefully she'll be coming back next chapter, though a transition from weepy!Sam to tough!Sam will have to be approached.

This chapter was super hard to squeeze out, mainly because of writer's block, college (quarter systems really bite), cotillion planning, original story projects, collaborative original story/manga projects, and serious procrastination on all parts. I'm really sorry. gets on knees Please forgive me, I didn't mean to go on hiatus for so long. I promise you that it will not take me another … 2 years for an update.

I'm working on chapter 11 as we speak, which will be set about a week from when the happening of this chapter occur.

_**REVIEW!! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!! DON'T DENY IT!! PLEAS LEAVE SOME CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, COMMENTS, QUESTIONS, AND/OR CONCERNS!! THANK YOU!!**_

Sakura Scout

PS: CALLNG ALL ABLE PERSONS!! I NEED A NEW BETA-READER FOR THIS FIC!! PLEASE SEND ME A PM IF YOU ARE INTERESTED!! Thank you.


	11. Juuichi

Kakinouchi cracked his neck and fixed his crimson eyes upon Danny's

HOT CHOCOLATE FUDGE!! I MISSED MY DEADLINE!! Ugh! I had in my mind that I had to get this chapter out by the 23rd because that's the last time I updated the year prior; I completely forgot that the anniversary was yesterday. Sorry about missing the deadline. I am so sorry. I'd bake brownies for all of you and let you guys use my game consoles, but that would require me handing out my address and I wouldn't like to do that over the internet on a public site. Again: I'M SO SORRY!! Especially since this is more of a transitional chapter than anything else.

I am changing the title of this fanfic from "Untitled Danny Phantom Fanfic" to "Aka-Nami." This is because … Well, I wanted to give it an actual title and am still unsure as to how I want to carry on with the story. Yes, that means I still don't know how this story will end. I had an idea for the ending, but now it just seems so … lame. So … yeah … I have a few more ideas of how to bring this thing to a close, but I can't say that it'll be sooner or later. Once more, I am really sorry.

Oh! Thanks to Amara-chan for catching the barrette-baret mix up. Thinking of Tucker dressing up a little girly wouldn't be something new, after all, he did dress up as Sam in "Control Freaks."

Disclaimer: I _own_ this story, its plot, Yamashiro Kakinouchi, the Crimson Chin, and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do _not_ own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belong to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and their respective owners.

**00000**

_**Aka-Nami**_

_**CHAPTER ELEVEN: JUUICHI**_

**00000**

Kakinouchi cracked his neck and fixed his crimson eyes upon Danny's. "You act before thinking," red eyes flickered with a reminiscent light, "instinct can only get you so far without practiced knowledge."

**0**

This wasn't what he had imagined happening when he had ran all gung-ho into the hospital building. Certainly not being pinned against a wall, not being able to transform into Danny Phantom, and definitely not having Yamashiro Kakinouchi right in front of him and yet not being able to do a thing about it. No. That's not what he had imagined at all.

Danny took a deep breath, wincing as the blade across his chest dug closer to his ribs, but played it off as a sneer instead. "Is that the only reason why you wanted my attention, to give me some advice in fighting?"

"I would not categorize this encounter as such; however, what you have said does have some merit." A bemused grin danced along the shadows of Kakinouchi's gaunt face.

"Well," he barred his grinding teeth to ward off the creeping fear, "thanks, now let me--"

Danny bit down hard on the side of his mouth to keep from crying out as the sword's sharpened edge pushed off of his ribs and away from his bleeding flesh. He coughed up a bit of blood into his fist as he tried to fill his uncompressed lungs to their max, all the while glaring at the deceased man before him.

Kakinouchi sheathed his sword. "Rest."

Danny pounced, but the ghost vanished.

"Hmm … It seems that you are still able to move," spoke the disembodied voice.

The halfa swayed, his vision phasing in and out. "Where are you?!"

A hand came to rest on his left shoulder. "Regardless, you must rest."

"Shut up!" Danny twisted his torso with his fist at the ready, but faltered as the pain shot through his chest. His fist was easily caught and Kakinouchi came into view once more.

"What," Danny blinked slowly, "what did you do to me?"

"Nothing to bring you this far gone," the hand on his shoulder moved to his neck, "you have done this to yourself."

There was a distant, yet focused look on the older man's eyes, looking at Danny but not seeing him. "What good is a warrior not prepared for battle?"

A pinprick of pain and the world was a swirl of black.

"Rest now; it is what you both need."

Then there was nothing.

**000**

Tucker didn't bother to park his moped, just drove it right up to the front doors and jumped off. His feet didn't stop once they touched the ground and faster than he thought he could go, he was already running through the automatic doors, dodging nurses, doctors and guards as he advanced towards Sam's door.

But a human wall of a guard obstructed his entrance, physically stopping him in his tracks when he ran full speed into him.

"Could you please move out of the way? I have to see Sam."

The large man, who appeared to be of German descent, remained stationary. "I am sorry to inform you, but Miss Manson will not be seeing anyone for the rest of the day."

Tugging on his baret with a mixture of impatience, frustration, and anxiety, Tucker glared at the guard. "Why not?"

"That information," black sunglasses reflected the fluorescent lights, "is none of your concern."

"Sam is my best friend and my other best friend's parents are the ghost hunters that the Mansons, your employers, hired to take down the ghost who got Sam in the condition she is now. I am _very_ concerned for her and," brown boots stepped forward, "I don't think it's all that fair for you to let Danny in and not me."

A large and tanned hand lowered itself to the boy's shoulder, keeping him in place. "I assure you that no 'Danny' has made it past this door. Still, even if that were the case, I must decline your request. Mrs. Ida Manson has given specific orders--"

Tucker shrugged off the guard's hand, alarms going off at the back of his skull. "What do mean Danny didn't come here?" A thought occurred to the teen and he felt the mental alarms lose strength.

"Of course you wouldn't see him," he whispered to himself. "Listen, Grandma Manson and Sam would make an exception for me. And I'm sure Nurse Amy wouldn't mind so much either."

"Miss Sprague is in no position to allow such … demands."

Sea foam green eyes narrowed. "She's part of the hospital staff and she used to be my babysitter. The Mansons trust her and they know I'm not a physical threat. So," his hand reached out for the door handle, "I'm just going to let myself in, alright?"

Tucker's fingertips didn't even brush the metallic handle before the guard grabbed him by his extended arm and gave it a hard tug downwards.

"If you are going to be so persistent, I will tell you then that Miss Sprague has been subdued because of her recent possession by Yamashiro Kakinouchi." The German guard released the meat lover's arm. "Luckily, Miss Manson was not harmed when the ghost revealed himself. He vanished before he could be captured, but precautions were procured and Miss Manson was taken to her room, where the only ghost shield is located and active."

_Ghost shield?_ Tucker did a double take. If there was a ghost shield around Sam's room, then that means Danny couldn't possibly have gone intangible to get into the room. Especially with Mr. Tall-Buff-and-Serious guarding the door, there was no way the young ghost hunter could take the front way. The alarms wracking his mental world came back full force at the severe lack of Danny Fenton. It was an absolute shame that the adolescent would have to wait until later to receive an answer to his unspoken question.

"Mrs. Ida Manson is very concerned for her granddaughter and has explicitly … explained that she will be protecting Miss Manson from within the shield's perimeter. I would not like to provoke any outburst from Mrs. Ida Manson, so it would be best if you left."

"Wait," Tucker's eyes widened in surprise as a more pressing thought entered his mind, "Amy was overshadowed by Yamashiro?"

The fair-haired guard straightened the lapel of his blazer. "Yes, but I would keep that information to yourself. Now run along--"

"Didn't the alarms go off?"

"Yes," a pause, "but only _after_ Kakinouchi released Miss Sprague from his control."

"That doesn't make any sense," Tucker said more to himself than the large German. "I need to talk to Sam."

The nicely tailored man gave not an inch. "I do not care if you are Kamui himself. This is a place of healing and I assure you that your friend is safe and resting well. No harm will come to her here. You, of all people," the guard's voice had become silky and heavy with an Asian accent, "should know this already.

"It is on my honour that I say these things and it is by my upbringing and moral code that I keep my word."

Tucker understood what was being said and who was speaking to him, but that didn't mean he liked the sound of the man's voice, his vice grip, or the way his eyes glowed red through the dark lenses of his sunglasses and locked onto the far wall.

"I, however, cannot say the same for foolish young boys who rush headlong into a fight without thought." The guard's hold loosened before his entire body swayed as something, or rather someone, smiled wickedly back at Tucker in a haze of green smoke that quickly vanished into the air.

"What happened?" asked the recovered German, his accent thick and heavy.

But Tucker was already sprinting down the corridors to the room behind that certain wall. He had a feeling he wouldn't like what he saw, but at least he would know where Danny was.

**000**

How long had it been since that day? That bright summer afternoon when everything went to Hell?

Tucker refocused his dazed vision on the Bible placed in the built-in shelf on the pew in front of him. Sunday … A day? No … He remembered starting work at the Nasty Burger on Monday … vaguely. That would mean … A week? Had it really been a week? Glancing at his father's watch, the date was eight days later than what he last remembered it being. A whole week had passed. His neck felt like it was burning just thinking about it.

The attack on Danny and his parents, Kakinouchi bypassing hospital defences to threaten Sam, and the warning he got from the same fallen samurai … God … How could that have happened?

Jazz had been devastated with the news, only finding some comfort with Grandma Manson and Sam as Mrs. and Mr. Manson bumped up security during Sam's supposed final week at the hospital.

In their free time, he and Jazz worked on installing a ghost shield at the Manson home. They couldn't really start until Tuesday, having needed two days to get their bearings. Honestly, Tucker had been impressed with Jazz's ability to bounce back as fast as she did. Having to improvise and cover for Danny on a daily basis, Tucker had gotten pretty good at putting up a front. What Jazz had been through to give her that same kind of advantage, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know; then again, she was pretty talented to begin with.

The installation process had progressed slowly, more so than what had been initially estimated, Jack and Maddie's absence being the obvious reason why. No one could really blame the two ghost hunters though, being mauled by a swarm of spectres and all. Jazz being the prodigy child of the two scientists and Tucker being a close family friend with a large understanding of technology seemed to be the best candidates to install the ghost shield on such short notice.

Danny would have been a much appreciated third party, but the encounter with Kakinouchi had thrown those chances out the window. Tucker fought against the mental image of Danny lying on his back in an empty hospital room with a blood-soaked shirt. Instead, the teen turned his attention to the deep tenor of Pastor Dean Reeves. It was not so much the words that Tucker paid attention to but their sound; they were low in tone and lethargic, not sleepy-lethargic, but the patien- lethargic, as if they were waiting for those following behind to catch up.

Tucker felt his neck itch. He wondered if this lax atmosphere was just an escape for him, a false sense of safety, of normalcy. He scrapped a part of his scabbing wound off and winced as it reopened.

**000**

Sam stared at the empty chair beside her hospital bed. She was supposed to have been released yesterday but her parents had postponed her discharge until a ghost shield could be erected over the Manson home and installation was going slow. She knew how difficult it was for Jazz and Tucker to build something they were not familiar with. Being as close as she was to the two, she was aware that they only knew how to mess with the equipment and machinery that Jack and Maddie used, but not how to build it.

As smart as Jazz was, she was never an advocate of her parents' ghost obsession, even more so of their technological advances in the paranormal field. Tucker on the other hand was a whiz with software, hacking, and code, but the actual physical aspects? Sam only hoped Jazz would keep Tucker from burning down her house with either a blow torch or soldering gun or something to that degree. And she prayed they would hurry up and finish so she could finally get out of this Hell hole, no offense to the hospital and its staff, it was just that she was getting severely restless … and worried, but she wouldn't let anyone know that.

She had been on edge since last Saturday. As if it wasn't enough to know that Yamashiro Kakinouchi had gotten past security just to threaten/warn her, the fallen samurai had attacked Danny and his parents (the latter indirectly, but still all his fault). He had taken them down so easily and that frightened her. Jack and Maddie had been more or less beaten to two large masses of bloody pulp and she could only listen to Jazz's quavering voice as she talked about their injuries, her stomach sinking and churning with each bruise, laceration, sprain, twist, and broken bone listed.

Then there was Danny.

Sam hugged herself and drove the thought away from the forefront of her mind. She had cried and worried over him more than she would like to admit and quite frankly, she was sick of it. So as there would be no confusion, she didn't blame him for getting into the trouble that he had; she was just tired of herself being the cause of so much grief and suffering. And it pissed her off to no end.

"I need to get out of here," the Goth seethed, glaring at the IV connected to her arm while considering whether or not to tear it out.

"Not until Jazz and Tucker finish the ghost shield generator at your house," the door closed with an audible click.

Amethyst eyes closed and pale lips curled into something that resembled something between a sneer and a smile—something raw, strained, and conveying her every tired nerve. "I told you to leave me alone. There are other people who need you more than I do."

The empty chair beside the bed screeched and a squeak of sneakers sounded as both were moved closer towards her.

"There's not much I can do for my parents other than make sure they don't try to sneak out of the hospital to work. Knowing my dad, he'd probably just fall out of his bed and injure himself more."

A real smile graced Sam's lips, but vanished as she opened her eyes and glared at the person sitting beside her. "Danny, you need to--"

"I need to be here," his voice thin and wavering, but never cracking.

"Well I don't need you here! Can't you get that through your thick skull?" Her throat felt like it was closing and her eyes pricked with angry, frustrated tears, but she forced them both down. "You think you have to take care of me and that what's happening is your problem, but it isn't. What the Hell do you plan on accomplishing by sitting there in that chair looking like a ghost than Danny Phantom? What? Are you going to pass out like you did when Kakinouchi could have cut you in half last week?"

She looked at him, actually looked and took in the state he was in as he sat hunched over in his seat. Danny Fenton sat beside her with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, cheeks slightly hallowed, hair limp and frazzled, complexion pasty, and stature wavering even though he was sitting down. "You're not doing anyone any favours by impersonating the undead, Danny. You need to go back to Tucker's and rest."

Danny blinked slowly, his lips set in a grim line. "Sam, you know I can't--"

"Yes you can! Amity Park will not burn to the ground if you take a day off."

"No. No it won't." He stood and the temperature in the room dropped to freezing, Danny's eyes a violent shade of emerald green. "But the last time I decided to relax, my parents were wheeled into the ER and the ghost who almost killed you had the opportunity to finish the job."

Sam remained unfazed. "And you couldn't do a thing about it. You still can't and you won't unless you regain enough strength to do so."

The halfa placed a hand to his chest, over the shirt that lay above the bandages he had just recently replaced. "It was a shallow cut and I didn't loose as much blood as everyone thinks. I'm fine now."

"You're the only one that seems to believe that."

**0**

There was a retort to that statement, but Danny never delivered it as the headache that had been pulsing at the back of his skull all morning long decided to increase its intensity. He swayed where he stood and had to grab onto the rail guards along the sides of Sam's bed to support his weight, his own legs seeming to have lost their strength. Somewhere, amongst the white noise that assaulted his mind, Danny heard his name being called, but it did little to ease the pain. Taking a deep breath, the young ghost hunter tried to right himself and force the throbbing pain away, only successful for that brief moment before he was consumed by it once more.

The room was fading from out of his vision, enveloped by black spots and blurring shapes. A pang of something—pain, nerves, dizziness, he wasn't quite sure—hit the young teen at the sides of his ribs, burning where he had been injured and churning his stomach. Nausea rocked the insides of his body as he tried to remain physically stationary, but the ground continued to lurch beneath him.

He stumbled back, letting go of the cool metal that had once been clutched in his grip, and fell over the uncomfortable chair he had sat in earlier, nothing but a dark smear in his vision. His name, again, rang faintly in his ears, the rest of him struggling to regain an upright position.

Then cool hands were on his skin, which he hadn't realized was burning, and led him in a direction—forward, backwards, left, right—his feet couldn't remember how to define. The relief of cool water met his heated face and the inky blurs that clouded his eyes began to dissipate, that is, until the pain twisted his gut, pushing forth the bitter bile up through his dry throat and out by way of his slackened mouth.

He dry-heaved until his vision cleared, but his skull continued to split under his skin and his flesh wound burn as if being torn open.

The only comfort he found was the softness that pillowed his aching head and the sight of Sam watching over him.

Darkness was all he knew afterwards. ((1))

**000**

As much as Jazz detested her parents' unhealthy obsession with ghosts and their work revolving around the paranormal, she did respect their drive to protect others and their efforts to do so. She couldn't fathom how they could be as crazy as they were and be so capable of building all of the inventions that they had, especially now as she stared between the blueprints in her hands and the heap of metal that was suppose to be some kind of generator.

"Ugh!" she cried, throwing the plans on ground and giving the 'generator' a good, solid kick. Jazz was smart and everyone knew that, including herself, but the schematics for the ghost shield were more complex than she could ever hope to imagine. It was not as if Jazz couldn't read the plans, it was just she had distanced herself from her parents' work so much and denied it for so long that comprehending what was written down was a task she was unable to fulfill unless someone in their 'right' mind could help her understand it. Though, by her standards, Tucker was no where near to being in his 'right' mind, Jazz desperately needed his cooperation.

The young scholar glanced at her wristwatch and breathed a frustrated sigh at how close the hour hand was to the Roman numeral for one. A good portion of her Sunday morning had been spent in the basement/movie theatre/bowling alley of the Manson home trying to piece together the ghost shield generator. Her parents had moved all the supplies needed for the instalment of the ghost shield a week prior, before their attack. It was Jazz's guess that Jack and Maddie had thought of assembling the ghost shield the weekend of Sam's initial early release from the hospital. Her parents were far from lazy, but they did have a knack for procrastination. She just wished that they had finished their work earlier so that she could focus on her part time job at the chiropractic clinic.

For a brief moment she thought about calling her parents for help, but dismissed the idea immediately. If she called them, they wouldn't hang up until they talked her ear off and somehow convince her to have them discharged early so they could work. Knowing her father the way she did, he'd probably just blow something up and send himself back to the hospital the same day he got out.

The past week had been hard and Jazz only foresaw it getting worse before it would get better. She wasn't really sure how much more her already frayed nerves could take.

Settling down on one of the many plush seats in front of the massive flat-screen television, Jazz rubbed at her temples. "I need help. What is taking Tucker so long?"

As if on cue, the aforementioned teen walked down the steps into the basement. "Sorry I'm late. Pastor Reeves was on a roll today and service ended up taking longer than usu … al … Jazz, did you kick the generator again?"

Jazz wisely remained silent as Tucker inspected the dented metal of the machinery.

"You did, didn't you?" accused the techie, fingering the new scuff mark on the one of the metal plates and using his other hand to point towards Jazz's own scuffed shoe. "I don't know why Sam is all worried that I'll blow up her house when you're the one that keeps beating up the generator every time you're in a rut."

"At least I don't set chairs on fire," shot back the honour student.

"That only happened once and it that has nothing to do with working on the generator."

"Yes," sarcasm dripping with her every word, "because playing with Sam's Zippo lighter when you should have been working on the generator has nothing do with actually working on the generator."

"Well, it doesn't!" Arms flailed in exasperation.

"That's not the point." Jazz rose from her seat. "You're more of a hazard than me."

"That's not the point either. The way you abuse the generator while we're working on it before it's even complete is only going to make the whole process take longer. Seriously," Tucker crossed his arms and glared at then older girl, "it's like you're sabotaging it or something."

Jazz stalked over to where Tucker stood, visibly steaming at the boy's comment. "I am doing no such thing. If the completion of this ghost shield generator is taking so long, it's only because you are incapable of finishing it yourself."

"Look who's talking, Miss I'm-gonna-kick-the-generator-because-I-can't-figure-out-how-to-build-it-without-someone-to-help-me. I don't know how Danny can stand having a sister like you."

"And I wonder how Danny can possibly have you as a best friend."

"If you hate me so much, why don't you ask Danny for help?"

"That's a wonderful idea, but you know why he can't."

"I'm not stupid. Of course I know."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"Because you won't shut up."

"And you won't?"

RING!

The two teenagers snapped their attention towards the snack bar, their green eyes set in sharp glares. "WHAT NOW?!"

A light blue cellphone sat fixed by their menacing looks, only answering them with a

RING!

Jazz was the first to come to her senses and hurried across the room to pick up her phone. "Hello?"

A crisp, clean and very professional voice met the young woman's ears and she felt the blood drain from her face. Across from her, Tucker's glare shifted to a look of concern, then outright fear when the phone slipped from her grasp. Jazz didn't even stay long enough for the cellphone to hit the carpeted ground before she started sprinting up the stairs, out of the house and towards her car. The only time she paused for longer than a second was when she acknowledged Tucker's knock on her window and unlocked the passenger door for him.

"Who was that?" He had barely buckled himself in before Jazz slammed on the gas pedal. "What happened?"

**0**

"The hospital," she rasped out. "Danny collapsed."

Tucker bit his tongue, and hard, hard enough that he could taste the metallic flavour of blood fill his mouth. He wanted to cuss and damn Danny for being a complete and utter moron with a severe Hero Complex, but he was raised better than that and Jazz certainly wouldn't appreciate anyone badmouthing her little brother, best friend or not.

It was just that Danny had gone far beyond the call the past week, more so than he had the weeks prior. Not only had the idiot tried to take on a skilled samurai with only about three hours worth of rest (he wasn't able to go back to sleep after Tucker woke him up), he extended the hours and range of his daily patrol. Apparently, the thirty-two stitches ((2)) it took to close the wound Kakinouchi had given him were not enough to keep him off his feet, but certainly strengthened his resolve and at the same time weakened Danny far more than anyone had seen before.

**000**

_"I'm going out."_

_Tucker paused a moment in his reading of the ghost shield generator schematics to check the __Crimson Chin alarm clock on his nightstand from his position on top of his bed. "It's half past midnight."_

_For a split second, the room filled with a blinding white light. "I need to make my rounds."_

"_You've bee__n suffering from slight anaemia and sleep deprivation. Also, if you haven't noticed, your usual remarkably fast healing capabilities have gone MIA. That cut on your chest isn't healing at all; it's already been four days." The African-American glared at the blue sheets of paper laid out before him on his bed. "Sam, Jazz, and even the doctors say that you should be resting. And I'm sure that if your parents were conscious right now, they would agree with the rest of us."_

"_You're the only person that knows I'm hunting ghosts almost literally 24/7, much less hunting down Kakinouchi."_

"_Sam's gonna find out if she doesn't know by now__." A certain equation regarding voltage input wrinkled Tucker's brow._

"_She doesn't want to see me and you'll be too busy with your job at the Nasty Burger and working on the ghost shield generator to tell her."_

_Biting his lip, the darker teen circled the problematic equation to ask Jazz about later.__ "I don't see how that matters since you're going to visit her anyway."_

_Danny didn't s__ay anything for moment. "Why won't you and Jazz let me help with the ghost shield?"_

_Tucker straightened the blueprints, allowing his friend the change in topic. "Like I said, everyone says you should be resting and they know that you're being obsessive about the whole Yamashiro Kakinouchi ordeal, so that last comment of yours is null in void. We all want you to just take it easy."_

"_I can't do that."_

"'_Won't' is more like it,__" was the rather fresh response Tucker gave, immediately trying to figure out how to take it back._

_The temperature dropped several degrees. "No. It's 'can't.' If I'm not patrolling Amity Park, who will? My parents are both in comas and I'm the only other ghost hunter in town."_

_It got colder._

"_I'm the only one who can stop Kakinouchi."_

_Teal eyes glared at glowing emerald from behind thick framed glasses, thoughts of redeeming himself gone. "You can't stop anything if you run yourself down into the ground the way you are. You won't stand any more of a chance against that crazy samurai than when he took you down on Saturday!_

"_Why can't you just take Yamashiro's word for it and be grateful that Sam's safe in the hospital?"_

_The windows began to frost._

"_Because she isn't."_

_White scribbles on blue paper were long forgotten. Instead, Tucker's focus was upon the young man that hovered before him at the foot of his bed, mere inches off the ground, pale and ethereal, dark and brooding, withdrawn and angry, worn and determined. There was so much strength in the spirit that was both Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton, but so much frailty that frayed at his mind and body. It was there, even as he floated above the carpeted floor, in how his shoulders drooped just so, the way the skin under his eyes sagged and discoloured, how small red veins laced through and bled into the whites of his glowing green eyes, the strained nerve at the base of his neck, and the faint crackling of green ectoplasmic energy around his tightly clenched fists. He was on edge and paranoid, and despite his bravado, there wasn't nearly as much fight in his body as much as there was in his heart._

"_As long as you think that, as long as you're pushing yourself because of that, neither are you."_

_Silence stretched out between the two friends, gazes locked and unwavering. It was a moment later when bloodshot green eyes were cast down and disappeared all together that the room returned to an uncomfortable summer heat._

**000**

Tucker hadn't seen much of Danny since that night and when he did, the halfa was either just passing through or, on the rare occasion, sleeping. Words were few and far between during those moments and it was Tucker who ended up talking, if at all. The techno-geek said nothing of this to Jazz, not like he could anyway; telling your best friend's sister that her little brother's health and, most likely, sanity were declining because he was acting as sole ghost hunter of the town under the guise of his own ghostly alter-ego when it was suppose to be a secret wasn't something he could actually do, not unless he wanted said ghost hunter after his hide.

But this was important.

The last time Tucker had seen Danny was right when he was coming back home from working on the ghost shield generator at the Mansons' the night before and Danny was just leaving for his nightly rounds. Truth be told, the younger Fenton looked like absolute shit. It was like seeing a zombie version of Danny Phantom take flight. If it wasn't for the severity of the whole situation, Tucker would have had a good laugh at the idea.

Danny wasn't talking to him any more and the bespectacled teen was getting further and further out of the loop in what his superhero friend was doing since visiting Sam wasn't a priority, not with the ghost shield so far behind schedule. Heck, he didn't even know that Jack and Maddie Fenton had both regained consciousness until Friday evening from Jazz, though they had been awake since the wee hours of that morning and he had run across Danny in the early afternoon.

Jazz had more information on what was happening and it became even more apparent with the recent phone call. She was in the loop because she was directly connected to what was going on even though Tucker was the one sharing his room with Danny, who for some strange reason thought it was his sole responsibility for the safety of the town and Sam, especially Sam. No doubt the honour student had more verbal contact with Danny than Tucker did in the past week either. There was no way she could have not noticed Danny's withering away, no way with how fast and recklessly she was driving towards the hospital.

Of course Jazz would help him talk some sense into Danny if he told her about Danny Phantom.

Tucker knew Danny was becoming more and more of a danger to himself and, if no one stopped his dangerous downward spiral, a danger to those around him. Jazz would know what to do. She could help. But only if he told her Danny's secret. It would cost him Danny's trust, but the halfa would be subdued, hopefully.

"Jazz?"

The redhead didn't spare a glance in Tucker's direction as she made a sharp left turn onto Commodore Way, barely avoiding a collision with a crossing moped. "Yes?"

Red, black and white flashed through Tucker's mind, colors adorning green and framing dark irises and gleaming teeth. All of these, pale and ethereal, dark and brooding, withdrawn and angry, worn and determined; but most of all, lost, lonesome, and reminiscent. Something had been ripped away from this image and Tucker felt sick as another figure superimposed it, filled where the other was empty. He gripped the armrest and forced down the bile that crept up his throat.

Damned if he did, and damned if he didn't.

And neither seemed to be a lesser evil than the other.

"Drive faster."

((1)) This whole scene is based off of personal experience. Listen well kiddies: This is what happens to you when you don't take care of you body by severe lack of sleep, skipping regular meals, and just running yourself ragged both physically and mentally. It is painful and not at all fun.

((2)) I honestly don't know how many stitches it would have taken to close his wound, so sorry if it's completely inaccurate.

**00000**

ARG!! I am not happy with myself. Yes, I'm still kicking myself for missing my deadline, but that's not the only reason why. This past year has not been kind … Let's just leave it at that. I am also unsatisfied with this chapter, mainly because I rushed through it and didn't even proofread it properly or get it beta-read. I'm really sorry, Xaphania Serapha Larn (or should I call you "Ari?"). The draft for chapter 12 will most definitely be sent out to you a week before I update next time.

I can't stop myself from apologizing for missing my deadline and making you guys wait a whole year for a new chapter. I'm so sorry. I know that it doesn't do much, but I am deeply ashamed for breaking my promise. At least I didn't end this chapter with such a big cliffhanger like last time, right? Well, I guess Danny passing out was kind of scary-dramatic, but trust me, he's fine, just overworked.

The next chapter hasn't even been started on, though I'll start on while I look over this chapter. I'm going to go through this chapter a couple more times for the remainder of the month, so don't freak out if it's a bit different than what you originally saw if you decide to reread it. I can't say when I'll be updating next, but I assure you that I love this story too much to just let it die. I'm sorry for all the trouble and I understand if you guys hate me for it.

Thank you everyone who has been keeping up with this story. A special shout-out to all of those reviewed, though! Thank you so much! Your support helps my drive to keep writing this story; without you, I would've stopped at chapter one.

_**DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!! PLEASE LEAVE SOME CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, COMMENTS, QUESTIONS, AND/OR CONCERNS!! THANK YOU!!**_

Sakura Scout


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